


Soulworm

by Slightly_tired_knight



Category: RWBY, Soul Eater
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soul Eater Fusion, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Cults, Fear, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Rated For Violence, Romance, Shounen, Slow Romance, Soul Resonance, Suggestive Themes, The Moon - Freeform, Witches, grimm are dangerous, rated for blair, rated for neopolitan, update when the madness strikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slightly_tired_knight/pseuds/Slightly_tired_knight
Summary: There's a song that we've all heard once, I think. It wasn't all that good it was like countless people trying to play the piano all at once.You could get second hand embarrassment from having heard it. But when you heard it you couldn't help but hum along a silent cheer for the artists that felt brave enough to play. No not quite. It felt like you were meant too like their was a spot for you in the song too. All you had to do was reach out.Your mother sang it to you and  its been stuck in your head for as long as you can remember.In a world filled with  madness and depravity that scape against your brain, breaks you down, and twist your heat and soul into knots. Where people and monsters hurt each other  for no reason and others are in need of saving. Where they can't reach out to join in the song. You'll reach out to them instead because songs of heroes and courage. A song of dreams and hope that's for everyone. And that song beats proudly in the simple soul of Ruby Rose ready to save others.---Soul eater x Rwby, the obvious crossover.not sure if it will be chapters in a scattered order but there will probably be a flow. It'll all work out, surely.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna & Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee & Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna & Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, Team JNPR & Team RWBY
Kudos: 2





	1. I Burn like Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Hm? What's this? Who has arrived here?  
> ...  
> Fool! Who asked for your introduction? Hmph. Did you think a story about a foot note of my life would escape my notice. Now I'll probably educate you about my life's tale. The Tale of Excalibur! No no no back up you fool. Do you not even know the rules? Sigh. Fine I've grown quiet accustomed to fools. My perfection has grown even more so! Now the first rule...

I **Burn** like _Roses_

Since the very beginning before even language has existed, the people of this world have told stories. Legends of life, of death, of kings, of demons, most of all of heroes and their journey towards victory. However, despite their love of stories each time its slips from one person to another tales are painted differently. A story of love and victory becomes a cruel account of victims and betrayals. Was this one an epic poem detailing crusade against a great evil for one's beliefs or a horrid rampage clawing at shadows that only they can see? A truth twisted by another's view or rather to hide what's just underneath. It goes on forever and soon we’re left wondering what was the original tale? Was it true? More importantly what were the storyteller’s purpose? 

The truth is gone. How terrifying. How terrifying it must be for one's life to be built on nothing but lies.

The past has been torn by all the voices and we are what’s left. The shreds of what was once a grand tale. So weave them together to seek comfort under a blanket of their own making.

Man born from Dust and Dust from Death. Strong, resourceful, wise but not lucky being born into a cruel world. Where the darkness within gnaws at their very being. Their bodies, their hearts, their minds grow strained with each cruel act, each unforgivable truth, and every betrayal. The broken pieces of self leave small holes unable to stop the fear form being patiently poured in. These holes widen bit by bit until it breaks under the pressure or the heart changes completely as their mind buckles, their soul shatters, and their body contorts.

Enemies within are matched with enemies on the outside. Dark beasts known as Grimm are drawn to the spark of life within all of mankind and the fruits of their labor. Those hearts filled with grief, those that are cracking and waver draw them like moths to a flame. As numerous as stars in the sky and forms as diverse as the figures that dwell in our nightmares. Their forms black as night, red eyes burning, filled with mindless hunger, white bones stained in the blood of their victims. In a never ending hunt they stalk life itself. No living creature was safe from them, all were prey.

The flames of life contains more than just grief. Hope, once its sparks appear, even the flimsiest wind can turn into an inferno; a beacon of victory. To guide them through these trails the flames of hope would lead them to great change. This power would be called Dust, the power of nature condensed into stone. Though with new hope came another trail.

Witches, living destruction in the shape of man, twisting their very world with the hollowness within them as the essence of nature courses through their very veins. As if they consumed dust to fill the void in their souls. Their first creation the Faunus who bore the likeness of beasts; the instinct of hunters and killers flowed through their veins. Witches once again twisted the form of man; this time into tools of their own. Demon Weapons, a power they would wield for themselves, to smother human resistance and master the Grimm.

Even the very power of nature fought them, yet surrounded by adversity man and Weapon found comfort in each other. To stand hand in hand, sing a song of unity. Their voices resonate together and for a short time their voices, their very stories become one as they bare their souls to one another. A matching wavelength giving birth to great power. A new hope was born from the glowing embers. Man and Weapon freed themselves from the oppression of Witches, their creations, and beat back the darkness that wished to swallow them all. 

The darkness and witches cowering in fear of Death, Humanity prospered basking in the light free of shadows. Free to grow, to learn, to create, and most of all free to live. But there is a single truth that must be remembered. No matter how many fighters rise, or how grand the force, or brilliant the hero all lights will flicker and fade eventually. In place of the warm light is the unease of the unseen. Fear. Anxiety. Weakness. Distrust. Despair. The darkness will always return and nothing touched by darkness is as it seems. You may gather your guardians, celebrate, build monuments glorying your free world and the power used to make it. Your supposed world of light with your fake order, bravado and so-called hope. But remember there is no victory in strength alone. It is not strength that held back the dark and lit the way.

  
  
  


Victory lies within a simple soul

a sound soul dwells within a 

sound mind and a sound body

Dust til’ Dawn. A relatively small shop that featured Dust and dust related merchandise along with the odd knickknacks one would expect from a larger than average convenience store. Tonight business was slow and only a pair of customers were currently shifting through magazines as the entrance bell jingles sharply dressed men swagger their way into the quiet shop. Among the aisles a girl wearing black blouse and skirt, a red hood that flowed into a cloak that reaches her ankles reads through a magazine with a broad smile on her face as music blares on her headphones. Her short black hair fades into a deep red and sways with her head as she nods to the music, a rock song whose muffled beat could heard in the empty store. Her silver eyes dance through a magazine titled ‘Demoness Triggers: BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! 12th edition’ flipping the pages with a small smile.

“Yang. Yang! Yang!” She calls out eyes still glued to the book in her hands but rocking back and forth on the back of her heels. She lets her head phones hang around her neck, the subdued song spilling into the air.

“You said my name three times and I have been summoned.” Walking over with her arms behind her head a young woman wearing an open tan jacket that showed off her midriff a yellow top that exposed her cleavage along with a yellow scarf around her neck, black shorts and cowboy boots. With a mane of wavy blonde hair that flows down the small of her back, save for a single strand that stood out at the top of her head, swaggered over with a grin. “What up Rubbles?” She looms over the hooded girl’s shoulder trying to get a look at the magazine. ” See a laser drill? Find me a Blade- cannon side car?”

“Look-look!” Ruby's finger tapped against the page as if trying to keep it pinned in place.

“Oooh! Nice engine!” Ruby had to mentally correct her sister this was a monstrous engine!

“Right?” Silver eyes sparkling like diamonds Ruby flips starts to point out a page on armor and clothing. Her blonde companion pulls on the magazine trying to get a better view while Ruby hangs on with a vice grip despite her feet leaving the ground.

”You’re not attaching something like that to me Ruby.” Arms crossed under her chest, Yang cut off the bubbling idea’s in her sister’s mind with little mercy.

“But-but-” Ruby pouts.

“Nope nope." Yang cover's Ruby's face with her palm avoiding her primary and best attack." The only engine that needs revving is Bumblebee’s. ‘Sides you don't work with dust.” Yang shakes her head taking the magazine from her sister's hand, leisurely flipping through it herself as Ruby hangs on her arm.

“I gotta start sometime don’t I?” The younger sibling chirped.

“And blow me up?”

“...Hey.” Someone pokes their head into the aisle. 

“You could handle it? You're big and strong...and durable.” The last bit came out as a whisper that the blonde missed.

“...True, true. Your big sis is the strongest one around. I got the trophy to prove it. ” Yang flexed her arm with a satisfied smile. Ruby got her the trophy as a kid but that's besides the point. 

“And think about it we could make rocket punches!” The gradient haired girl grins she could see the blonde weighing the risks of exploding with explosions.

“Listen to me! Put your hands in the air!!” A voice falls on deaf ears.

“Hmmm. I’ve always wanted a rocket punch.” Yang sighed wistfully. “Dad did not appreciate that try with the toaster when we’re kids...” She muttered to herself.

“It was a sacrifice for the greater good! Plus if I can figure it out for you.” Ruby stressed the ‘you’ as she spoke with a grin. “Imagine what I could do to your bike!”

“...Excuse me?” A deep voice piped up. “Oi! Hello?!”

“Oh I get your game now. This is all to modify bumblebee isn't it? Trying to get your hands on my baby.” Yang hums looking to her sister with a smug smile.

“Maybe? Is it working?”

“Well I-”

“HEY!” The sisters turned to a tall and lean man wearing a black suit and dress pant combo with black shades and a black fedora. “Finally.” In his right hand he held a black baton smacking it against some of the store's dust displays knocking over a fake chunk of dust. In his left pistol finds itself pointed at Ruby’s head.

“Can we help you?” The silver eyed girl's brows creased.

“Yeah.” Yang’s eyes narrowed. “What's up?”

“Put your hands in the air, both of you. Now.”

“Are...are you robbing us?” Ruby asked with a quirked brow.

“Yes!” He barks. “NOW, "his voice trails off as his gaze shifts to Yang, ”wait aren’t you-“

“Let's take this outside.” The blonde growled.

“Oh!” He growled. “You’re that crazy bit-”

A moment later the glass window at the storefront was smashed to pieces as the thug was set flying through it and like a rock across a lake he skipped across the street into the side of another building. Yang hopes out the store front cracking her neck, her eyes glowing red with a wide grin on her face. A golden light surrounds her arms and quickly disappears like flames in the wind revealing gauntlets in place of her forearms and fists.

“You know...you look familiar? Did I kick your butt somewhere?” She asked, cracking her metallic knuckles. “It's on the tip of my tongue.”

“Yang!” A flutter of red rose petals follow a blur of red as Ruby stands besides her sister. “Is he okay?”

“I’dunno? Probably? You alright man?” In response the suited criminal shakily raises a hand outstretching his thumb. He groans, arm flopping back to the ground. “Yep, he’s good.”

“Well that was... something I guess? Best money I’ve ever spent truly, thanks.” Looking over the damage a man wearing a sharp black hat, white suit and pants smokes a cigar idly comments with four more thugs in black behind him. He leans on a cane with a sneer hanging an umbrella over his wrist. He takes a deep drag from his cigar and exhales a puff of smoke and gestures at the sisters with a roll of his eyes. “Get them already,” he huffed, blowing a ring of smoke into the night air. “Seriously, this is what I’d have to put up without you.” His suited thugs sprang into action each holding either a baton or some form of gun as they flooded out of the broken window at once.

“Ah, Junior’s boys.” Yang hops in place with a smile while shadow boxing. “Never did get to enjoy my drink.”

“Who?” Ruby questions as she glances between her sister and the encroaching henchmen. “Yang do you know these guys?!”  
  


“Err. You see, um...Well the thing is....” She chuckled. “Hey let's do the thing!” She grapes her sister’s hand with a nervous grin. Her entire body ignites like an inferno of golden light that wraps around Ruby and consumes her form like a bonfire. Flowing around her the flames move to surround her arms like water as the form shifts , shrinks and breaks apart into two linked fiery objects. 

“Geez. Time to be a hero!” Ruby psyches herself up. She pounds her fist together and the fire bursts apart revealing gauntlets, black, orange, and gold like Yang's motorcycle. Snug on her arms connected by a long golden chain. Her sister’s arms. A gangster swings his baton down at her head, in a flash her hand shoots unto the grab it. With a bit of pressure it snaps between her fingers. He grits his teeth in annoyance , a sharp gasp forces it way past his slips as her other fist digs into his stomach. His legs tremble and unable to support himself he folds under his own weight. A loud click and the street next to her feet is torn apart by a blast. Silver eyes snapped to another of Junior’s men standing just outside the store front, his shotgun leveled to her as the rest charged, giving him a wide berth. Her body flows, a bullet of flame surrounded by burning rose petals.

“What?” The gangster clicks his teeth, steadying his aim for another shot. She blasts through the rest knocking them aside with the force of her speed. Behind his sunglasses his eyes widened in panic, the gunman fires. The flame swerves leaving the ground to take the brunt of the shot. The flame dances around him forming a whirlwind of heat and flowers. The thug’s eyes dart around in a panic the flames light bounces off his shades. The chill in the air replaced with an uncomfortably close inferno. He roars, pumping his gun he fires, breaking apart a hole in the storm that quickly closes again.

“Shit!” He fires again and again and again. "Get away from me! DIE! ”He chants his voice bellowing into the night with each shot. Finally, a groan of pain reaches his ears and a smile splits his face in half. Despite the light show it looks like he can still hurt her. Another shot another cry of agony. “DIE!” He roars firing again and again into the roses. The heat dies down leaving only petals to wither into ashes. Sweat dripping down his face he pulls on his collar looking around for a body only to notice two of his compatriots on the ground clutching their sides protective aura surrounds them flickered and shattered.

“You idiot! Who the hell are you shooting!?” One of them groans he tries to push himself up but his arms give out drooping him to the road.

“What?” He feels the heat tickling the top of his head and looks up just just in time for a pair of boots to slam into his face. His glasses shatter the shrapnel glowing in the light of her flame as she reignites. His body snaps back and is blown away into the store as Ruby pushes off him like a spring board towards another thug, fist raised and gleaming in the embers of her roses. 

RY

Back in the store, criminal Mastermind Roman Torchwick watches the fight with the disappointment of a man who made a bad purchase. The smoking leader drops to the ground as his henchman goes sailing overhead into the cash register. He can feel the pounding in the back of his head at the piss poor display.

“Oh for the love of Death.” The leader rolls his eyes. What good were these guys if they couldn't take down a single little girl and her demon weapon? He glances at the case of goodies and sighs. “Better get while getting is good.” He goes to sneak out the door and stops in his tracks like something pulled him back. Another problem but for a completely different reason. Not that he couldn't understand it, these scores were boring a far cry form the heists he's used to pulling off. Not only that but crimes themselves has gotten far more complicated than he'd like, the work he's doing now its not something he ever thought he'd be putting his hat into the ring to do. Beyond sabotage, theft, or simple beatdowns, it was all building towards something beyond him. He missed the simpler days and he wasn't the only one. “Fine.” He huffs to himself taking another drag. “Tonight I’ve been given an even greater appreciation for you. So have your fun, partner.” Who says you can't survive and have fun?

RY

Back outside Ruby burst from the flame fist cocked back, she can see herself reflect in his glass for an instance before the drake on Yang’s gauntlet.

“Two left.” Yang yawns form the gauntlet. A black void within herself with just her and nothing else, peering out of her weapon she can see her sister and the world around her gauntlets. ”They look'in shook.” Yang giggles.

“Right!” Ruby nods. “Then we’ll get their boss in the white suit and get back what they stole.”

“Sure sure.” Her sister nods along. “Hope he puts up a better fight.” Ruby turns to the remaining goons with a glare. She pounds her fists to together and the pair flinched. Not that she was trying to be intimidating it was just a habit carried over her sister.

“Shit!” A thug drops his bat backing up into his friend who roughly grabs him by the shoulders shaking him.

“You're a big-ass hammer ain't you!? Turn into a weapon already!”

“Oh right!” In a burst of light the gangster turns into a mallet painted a swirl of red and black. His friend grasps the shaft with a grin.

“Now you're in for it!” Ruby blinks surprised but its quickly suppressed as she quickly shifts into a defense stance with a frown. She hadn't expected any of them to be Demon Weapons seeing as their were all toting regular weapons of their own. Though she could feel Yang's renewed interest in the fight. Right then, she'd burst in and circle around their back before they could- Junior's thug goes for a practice swing only for a searing pain to wash over his hands like he stuck them in an oven. He yelps back, accidentally dropping the weapon on his foot. “The fuck!”

"Ouch?" Sisters mumbled dumbly as the thug hops around on one foot.

“Why’d you drop me idiot!” The voice of the weapon roars. “Pick me up and swing! It’s not that hard!”

“I can’t! You're too hot!”

“What? Are you hitting one me now?”

“W-what? N-no you...Okay. Well...Listen here.” The thug stammered. It doesn't take much for ruby to figure out what's happening, their not compatible at all it seems. Her legs tense as heat flows form her arms and spreads through her body. She streaks towards them a swirling mass of burring roses, no reason to give them time to get their wits about them just clean them up and move on to their boss.

“I mean I get it I'm a catch, you saw my weapon design. But this ain't really the time for flirting.” The hammer shifts back into the form of a man arms crossed. A blast of heat washes past him following a streak of flames the scent of burning flowers. “Just go get-” His friend is cut off by a chain wrapping around his throat, he gasp mouth twisted into a grimace. Ruby spins in place pulling turning into the demon weapon off his feet with the momentum alone. The swirling kicks up in speed the wind pulling it's burning roses into the air into a whirlwind of burning petals and fire. The thug pulls on the chain clawing at the hot metal to no avail. It sears his skin as it twist around his neck turning pale flesh bruised red and raw. Normally Ruby would be worried for him but he's a weapon she can tell he's had enough , theirs only one way out. Like clockwork, he changes into a hammer hoping to slide through the gap only for the chain to tighten even more. 

“You're going for a ride!” Yang winks with a gleam in her eye.

“Fuck this!” Having enough after watching his friend being twirled around the last of Junior’s boys back pedals away from the tornado of heat and roses. He spins on his heel scampering away never noticing the hammer flying his way until it crack against his head a red veil appears around his body only to shatter as he goes spiraling into a lamppost bending the meal and tilting the pole over himself. The weapon glows slowly shifting into a person trapped underneath his friend and the lamppost. Ruby nods to herself, her ears perk up at the sound of slow clapping, she huffs turns to find the ringleader looking amused.

“Well that was something, Red. You put on quite the show, really had us going. Too bad for you.” Cane in one hand umbrella in the other Roman strolls out of the shop case of stolen goods attached to his hip. “Should have kept it boring.” Despite his words he didn’t look excited in the least. He seemed more annoyed than anything, like he didn’t want to be here.

“You’re happy we’re stopping you?” Ruby quirked a brow. “You sure?”

“Unfortunately.” He shrugs. "I just have to indulge, not really an option anymore."

“He sure likes hearing himself talk,” Yang huffed. “Let's take him out, Ruby!”

“Now I can’t ignore you. Not until we’re satisfied and it's been a slow crime spree.” He points his cane at her and the end flips up revealing a barrel, the cap doubling as a scope for the thief. Ruby’s eyes widen as a flash of red illuminates the streets followed by an explosion. “This hurts me as much as it does you.” His umbrella pops up revealing the complex silver snow like pattern against the white fabric. As if carried by the wind he’s pulled back as Ruby bursts from the cloud of smoke, her fist narrowing missing his face and merely taking an inch off his cigar. She pushes forward throwing a flurry of punches without much planning he flips his umbrella, his feet drooping to the ground, as he blocks all her strikes. No matter how she strikes it the umbrella doesn't give it, for moment a smug smile appears in Ruby's mind each time her fist meets the odd weapon but she shakes off the feeling. Yang grits her teeth and Ruby feels her frustration, reeling a fist back she swings. The punch misses but it wasn't her intention to hit in the first place, she lets her punch carry her downwards and dives around the umbrella to Roman's surprise. He takes a step back, his hat drooping from his head at the sudden movement, as Ruby throws and uppercut his way. He flips his cane up; it slips under her outstretched arm, poking it at the bottom of her chin. Ruby’s eyes widen as the barrel glows red once more.

“Later, Red.”

“THE HELL?!” Yang roars eyes like smoldering flames! “Trying to shoot **RUBY** !?” Ruby’s silver eyes flash red. The girl’s left hand moved on its own, batting his barrel down. Her right fist clicked and swung back to point at Roman’s face. “Get. **FUCKED**!” 

“Whoa!?” Roman’s eyes when staring down the barrel of a shotgun poking out of the gauntlet. The umbrella in his grasp jerks his arm down.

Two explosions went off.

One launched Ruby in the air and back towards the side of the building across the street. She flips through the air plaiting her feet on the wall curling into a fireball of roses, she streaks across the street. The other blast should have collided against Roman and should have sent him flying back into Dust 'til Dawn. Instead he stood firmly in place, his umbrella opening it in front of him like a shield, covered in a layer of soot. With a light twirl the black marks fly off into the breeze and comes to rest on his shoulder. The ground around him scorched from his cane’s cannon fire, pouting he picks up his burned up hat. Sirens fill the night air as Ruby charges him straight on!

“Not helping yourself here Red.” Roman sighed. “Lucky for you I hear the perfect excuse to cut this short.” He points his cane at the fire ball with a smile. “I’ll leave you a parting gift!” He fires and the blazing girl leaps over the shot. His eyes have trouble tracking Ruby through the air. He's angling for another shot only for a different boom to echo through the air propelling the girl in mid air sailing over him. He turns, a bead of sweat runs down his face, as a super fast and explosive-fire propelled kick digs into his nose. It cracks then he cracks white lines spread from his face down his body even into the air around him the world around him cracking apart. Behind her heel he grins as the world goes red and Ruby is rocketed backwards. She flips landing on her feet but skidding a few feet.

“Where’d he go!?” Yang groaned. Ruby scans the streets for any sign of him but all she sees are the thugs she cleared out. In the corner of her eye she notices something moving above.

“Over there!” Floating through the air Roman waves at the girl with a smile on his face, his umbrella carrying him on the breeze to the rooftops. Illuminated by the blood moon laughing at them, dripping its ichor on the planet below. A bell jingles, Ruby snaps her head back at the store's entrance where the elderly shopkeeper pokes his head out. Ruby breathes a sigh of relief, glad that they didn't hurt the old man during their quick robbery. “You okay?” Ruby asks softly, receiving a nod from the old man she glances back at the rooftops with a frown. “You okay if I leave you alone to go after him?” She nods her chin at the rooftops. The shopkeeper looks at the destruction and the criminals laid about the street. He gives her a thumbs up which she returns with a smile.

“Lets go Yang!”

“OH YEAAH!!!!” Her sister pumps her fist. “He’s gonna pay!”

Ruby breaks off into a sprint , she leaps twirling through the air into another ball of flower and burning incense speeding up the side of the building pushed forward by a series by the kickback of Yang’s shotgun shells. That umbrella of his...its probably a demon weapon one that he can work really well with! The two of them were gonna take him down quick before he could pull anymore tricks! She didn't need to verbalize or even talk to Yang about it, her sister had the same idea, Roman was the only one in sync with their weapon. Their hearts synchronize like its second nature enabling the fire in each other's souls until they each explode, fireworks painting the patterns of their souls; blazing flowers in the night sky.

  
  


“ **SOUL RESONANCE!!!!** ”/ _SOUL_ _RESONANCE_!”

“ ** _EMBER CELICA!!_ **”

Tonight was an interesting one for Roman, he learned that he was going to have to find better locals to make use of if he wanted to keep his suit nice and white. "Maybe we should trash Junior's club?" The roar of an engine greets his ears as his getaway ride comes into view. 

“Just in time despite the setback.” He sighs to himself. He frowns at his umbrella. “No. We are not going back down there. I don’t wanna piss off the wicked Witch, she doesn't even trust us to do these jobs ourselves.” Loud booms and pops like fireworks ring in his ears along with a cry that overshadows the roar of an engine. He glances at the ground noticing how far his shadow stretches, without turning around he can tell the flashing lights and explosions go off behind him in a blinding display. “You can’t be serious! It's too early for an encore, Red!” He spins on his heel to find the girl diving at the him from overhead. The gauntlets on her arms have grown and can no longer be called weapons but rather they've changed into golden monstrous fists covered in shimmering orange-golden flames. Each hand easily as long as the girl is tall. Shotgun barrels now cannons popping out of the knuckles. At the end of each finger that sharp red talons the size of the girl’s head. The chain that connected the demonic appendages was on fire spitting embers in the shape of rose petals.

“BURNING!!!!” Charging at him fists forward Ruby's rose flames flow off her body, her golden fingers interlocked burning hotter than the sun. She throws herself forward raising fists above her head and launching her body into a spin just like a wheel. A golden fire arching down on the rooftop like a dragon devouring its prey.

“Impressive Red but an easy shot.” Roman points his cane at her only for his umbrella to twirl and slap the weapon into the air and through the airships window. “What? Oh come on-! Alright fine.” His claps, his umbrella closed, a pink and red aura swirls around him, a maelstrom of malice. Crooked-sadism personified. “Don’t say I don’t spoil you, Neo.”

“DRAGON!”

“Soul Resonance.” A quiet whisper on the wind. A pair of eyes grow on the sides of his umbrella, pink and brown smiling with glee. The handle grows longer as do the spines that now curl up like teeth. " _Hush_."

“ _GUILLOTINE_!”

He leaps into the air going to meet her blow straight on. “...Sorry, I’m not one to name my attacks.” Well he would have done that if he wanted to die. Ruby’s attack meets nothing but the rooftop, which caves in leaving a massive hole in the center of the warehouse’s roof. Ruby peers down at the rubble below the ground beneath her feet shaking as the edges of the hole expand bit by bit. Nothing, Roman avoided the attack completely leaving only rubble and shards behind. 

“Glass again? He must have teleported!” Ruby exclaimed she scans the rooftop for the thief head and eyes snapping every which way.

Teleporting! It always goes that way, when people have no idea what's happening, the surprise when when their chest blooms crimson Red running down her own br-

Enough of that Roman mentally sighed. Although the thief couldn't help but smile at hooded girl's reaction, his partner’s influence no doubt. The tip of his weapon stretches going for a simple point to a spike nearly as long as he is tall. The girl has good instincts; she spins on her heels and hops back planning to jump over the crater to avoid being stabbed through the back. She points her fists at him and fires a volley of flaming bullets, the power pushing her away faster. The shots slam into Roman; on contact his blade shatters into pieces along with him, just like glass, it sparkles through the air. Ruby never realized Roman played her all along and that he hadn't even moved since he resonated. Now that would change, as his doppelganger breaks into pieces Roman leaps at her from the other side of the crater to run through her back, her own attack propelling her to his blade. He watches as the world slows down, black red tinted hair flowing in her face, her silver eyes looking over shoulder her at him locking onto his. 

A FEAR that chills you down to the marrow, the fear that comes form seeing death.

It's what he expected but what he got instead made his partner hum with anticipation. 

Determination and a bright smile. 

She turns and her body whirls around like a red tornado surrounded by a wave of flames flipping her around to face him. Her hands cut through the air intent on slicing him with the fingers of her weapon even as his own blade threatens to impale her chest.

“Oh great. She's crazy too.” Roman couldn't help but let his thoughts slip out, "please stop enjoying this so much!” A blade this close to stabbing her and she counterattacks!? No hesitation, not a hint of fear, like she didn't care that she would be hurt. She had to be crazy and fighting madmen was not fun nor profitable no matter how much his partner liked it. He could take a hit and she’d still be stabbed. The he reminds himself she's just a kid. A resonance this strong must put a drain on her aura, he’d put an end to this. That’s what he thought until she’s suddenly pulled a good couple of yards in the air and safely away from his blade. The sheer disappointment he felt from his partner nearly broke their resonance. Standing on the edge of the rooftop. A sharply dressed woman in black holding a black riding crop. Her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a bun with a long lock twirled the right side of her face. The lenses of her glasses gleaming from the fires. The way she carried herself and that piercing ice-cold glare told Roman all he needed to know about the woman. It helps that she immediately tried to crush him with flaming debris, if not for his partner pulling him back he’d be crushed like a bug. One attack is followed by another shattering him to pieces on impact. The woman’s gaze shows surprise for merely a moment before nodding to herself as if assured of something. The newcomer flicks her wrist pulling the flaming debris from the wreckage and raining it down over the airship itself along with the surrounding area.

“Hey hey hey! This is your show now!” Roman cries as another illusion is shattered narrowly making it the airship he scampers inside blocking the hailing fire with his umbrella. The umbrella that was getting more into the fight by the second note that Roman had very little intent to indulge said desire the time for that was over. There wasn't supposed to be a huntress here! “That's it for today! Later, Red.” Once inside his muffled voice can be heard. “We got company!” 

The murder umbrella’s disappointment was endless. The mood was **ruined**.

Ruby finds herself hanging in midair, and Yang’s resonance dying down and giant claws shrinking down into her regular gauntlet form, as she's dropped at the edge of the building.

“Owowow.” Ruby winced rubbing her butt from being dropped from the sky onto the roof.

“You okay Ruby?”

“Ow...Yeah I’m good. Yang.”

  
“Who’s that?” Yang mumbled. “She looks...official?”

“Are you a huntress?!” Ruby asked a sparkle in her eye and voice filled with excitement. She never thought she would be fighting alongside a huntress today.

“Stay down, stay out of this, and stay quiet! You're in enough trouble!” The woman snapped as did the long riding crop in her hand against the ground! Ruby looked at the woman standing before her and there was so much she wanted to say but her mouth clamped shut. Eyes widening in panic she tried to move her fingers to her lips but found her limbs dead to her. From within her gauntlets Yang's voice grew silent. 

The blonde raises her crop and taps against the air far below them the earth rumbles as chunks of concrete and plaster fly out the hole Ruby made crashing into the airship as it tries to take off. With another wave of her tool the debris whirl in the air and press together like clay bent, smashed, and distorted until they form a spire. She flicks her wrist pointing her instrument down. The spire cuts through the air aimed to pierce clean through the airship and pin in it down to the streets below. The hovering airship tilts for a movement and from within a single woman wearing a red dress steps out. Long black hair flowing in the breeze, a trail of fire blooms from her eye licking at her cheek fiery marks over her arms. She raises a hand and meets the spire with a grin. A red crack runs the makeshift structure and it bursts into flames breaking apart back into the rubble that made it. The pieces cobbled together to form a flaming ball.

“Her eye... is burning?” The huntress whispers. Then Ruby felt it a wave of something pure unfiltered urge to destroy. “...This wavelength!” The Huntress gasped.

“Devilish. Deviled. Devils. Devil.” Her whispers caress the night air, the cool air ignites into a summer’s haze. The ball grows and spouts limbs, first bird-like legs then far too large arms. A pair of black eyes at its center. A golem. “Devils make toys out of everything and we toy with everyone.” The woman giggles. “Especially little weaklings. So have fun playing with my toy. I think it might be more your speed. Glynda Goodwitch.” She steps back into the airship closing the door behind her. Its engine rev once again to gain more lift so it can properly take off.

It slams down onto the roof the hole in the center grows as the roof strains to handle its weight stomping towards Ruby and the Huntress. Ruby moved to stand but found she couldn't. Like her body lost the will to move. As if it was wrong to stand up, her limbs just felt too heavy. This was only happening because she couldn't grab him back down on the streets. She needed to help. Her body just refused to move like it was lifeless. Even Yang couldn't only grit her teeth in frustration.

“Unbelievable, so he’s working with a Witch?” Goodwitch mutters, “no, this wavelength is too heavy, she’s not just any Witch!” 

Ruby’s eyes widen at the Huntress's claim. A Witch? Is that the feeling that crept into her soul a Witch’s wavelength? 

Goodwitch flicks her riding crop once more, the ground beneath the golem raises spearing it straight to the center. It stops for a moment yet continues its stride around the edge of the hole, barely bothered. Goodwitch’s eyes widened, her attack melted before it could piece it’s flaming shell. The ground beneath its feet warps with each step turning the ground to goop in its path. Its steps are heavy and move with just as much power that as it sounds like. Each powerful step launches it forward at the expense of the roof's stability. She girts her teeth, a purple outline shrouds the golem lifting off the roof, its body cracks open reveling a jagged mouth with rocks for teeth and raging fire. It screams, loud enough to nearly burst Glynda's eardrums, streams of fire scorching the air and rooftops and the Huntress must break her focus to direct the flames into air protecting her and Ruby. The golem closes the distance between them that in a few steps it's within striking range of Goodwitch. A beads of sweat runs down her face from the heat of the monster. She’d need to strike with more power and much faster but she had no time for anything flashy especially not with this reckless child behind her. The ground beneath her feet splinters and raises into the air. For now, the season Huntress decides to collapse the roof under it and use its falling speed to help pierce through its armor like fire and bury it under the debris.

“I...gotta...help!” Ruby growls drawing the huntress’s attention, eyes shining in the moonlight. 

“...” Her sister grits her teeth, eyes blinking between her normal indigo’s and passionate red. “If we wanna move...” Yang screams, her hair burning like fire, the world of darkness around her lighting up with flames. “Then...we're gonna fuckin’ move! We...got this!”

“Soul...” Ruby grunts forcing herself on her hands and knees trying to stand up. Her sister struggled with her all the way. Fire runs through her body and burns away all common sense. Her teeth grind and her veins pop. She could never just sit there when she can help someone so why start now. The heroes in her story would never just sit back and let others fight for them! “ _RESONANCE_!” A boom rings into the night air as the ground beneath the girl is blown to pieces a trail of flames and roses follow behind a massive storm of swirling flames.

“ ** _EMBER CELICA!_ **”

  
  


“Soul Resonance?” Goodwitch muttered as the girl’s arms transformed to pull off a soul resonance was no small feat. “No, that's not important, how is she moving in the first place?”

Giant fists block the golem's swinging arm and golden flames darken as the blow crashes atop the girl's monstrous hands. The gold of her massive arms fade into a red color. The girl drops to one knee at the sheer force of its attacks gritting her teeth to deal with the strain, her silver eyes now a beaming red. The next blow shakes her entire body; it rattles even her bones. Just blocking it felt like her bones might break a veil whose color is a flux of red and yellow flickers around her and her weapon. 

“Lets do this thing!!” Yang roars in Ruby’s ears a mix between a real dragon and a cheer for her sister. “Punch it, Ruby!”

Ruby’s own shout rips at her throat.

“ **_Rising...FIRE_ **!!” With a war cry she pushes back the flaming monster, a blur of yellow and red her knuckles scrape against the ground she hooks up into an uppercut. A torrent of flame spews from her fist lighting up the rooftops in a golden light. Golem’s own flaming form is pushed back by the burst of power and flung into the air, the fire peeling through layers of molten rock before piercing through and what remains of the rooftop with the force of the blow all of it comes tumbling down. It’s eyes flickering, flames dimming the golem is left helplessly falling back to earth, the large fist shaped hole in its body, so wide you could see the moon on the other side laughing at its misfortune. Wasting no time, Goodwitch waves her crop like a wand lifting her and Ruby up into the air, taking chunks of the building and wringing them into multiple pikes to pierce the monster through its new wound form the inside out. She clenches her fist and it all twists together into a spear. She glares at the airship sailing higher into the air.

“I don't remember dismissing you!” She snarls, it was a long shot but she had to try and take them here! Launching the remains of the golem and the roof at it. Burst of flames paints the night sky into a sea of orange consuming the golem, the debris and reduces most of it all to slag and ash before they have a chance to hit their mark. "That much power,” the huntress whispered wide eyed. “No, I have to capture them!” She grits her teeth and moves her wand once more the small piece that remained weave together. Her final shot that slams into the hull of the ship and even pierces through it and to her surprise it shatters into pieces. In the distance GoodWitch watches the same ship sailing through the freely though the night's sky. “...” Goodwitch frowns, pulling her and Ruby onto the streets below. “Just who was that Witch? Her presence felt so intense.” She pondered aloud attaching her weapon to her hip. “Are you alright?” She turns to the caped girl lying on the road with a raised brow. The girl's covered in soot and sweat, her straight hair ruffled like a bird her weapon partner seemed fine though only light scratches on the gauntlets. This girl was reckless and dearly needed a scolding but she did help and is presumably a civilian, her safety mattered just as much as capturing those thieves. Glynda offers the girl a hand which the red hooded girl accepts. The teen's hands tremble with nervous energy.

“Ah...yeah...” Ruby nods. Goodwitch looks into the night sky, the corners of her lips turning down into a frown. “Oh! Miss!” The Huntress glances down at sparkling sliver eyes and immediately regrets it. “Can I have your autograph!?” Glynda notes the girl's strong grip on her hand as she barely contains her excitement.

“...” Goodwitch tilts her head at the excitable girl hopping in front of her. The huntress glances around at the ruined store, the downed thugs and torn up street. Glasses nearly slipring from her nose to look down at the hooded joy. Confusion gives way to anger, pushing up her glasses with two fingers cold green eyes locked onto silver ones. Right the scolding could come now then. “You...” 

“Can I?” Ruby asked again oblivious to the gears turning in the older woman’s head.

“Oh sweet sweet Ruby we're going to jail now.” Yang sighed. “Or she's going to call dad.” Yang whispers to herself.

“Young lady,” with the authority of a tired teacher the woman barked, "sit down!” Jade eyes cut into Ruby along with the commanding voice.

“Uhh...Huh?” Ruby’s legs gave out once again. The older Blonde looms over her with frown glasses gleaming in the moonlight, the moon cackling behind her.

The next thing our heroine knew she was sitting with her sister in a police station.

  
  


RWBY

x

SOUL EATER

Meister :Ruby Rose

Demon weapon: Yang Xiao Long; Chained Gauntlets-shotguns

Resonance rate: 200+%

To be continued...


	2. From Shadows Lionize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be free of oppression must you become the new oppressor?  
> To grasp freedom, a future can that only be obtained by bloodshed?  
> If the power of words aren't enough to change the world...then what power do we need?  
> A black cat has no answer but knows the path she trots is wrong...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see you...  
> Peering into the dark...  
> Swimming in misery...  
> I don’t care who you are...but I see your heart. YOur SoUl.  
> What do you want? What do you want to achieve? What lofty goals lie just beyond your fingertips?

Chapter 2: _ **From Shadows**_ ~~ **Lionize**~~

Red. Over the years it's become a color that's come to define a lot of her life. So far today would be no different but at least it was peaceful for a change. A cool wind caresses her cheek dancing along her long black locks. The leaves join in swirling around her with the air, from this cliff she can see it all a sea of red and grey. The forest painted red though not by the season, these woods are like this year-round, everywhere she walked it was like a crime scene splatters of red decorate the ground. Her teeth sink into her lip as the wind tires to move her away.

It's cold and she should feel that but she can’t because she is on fire. Rather, the weapon in her grasp burned to the touch. Her hand is on fire and the vicious heat travels from her arm to consume her entirely. Her heart is heavy but just like the color red that too was an unwelcome regular feeling that she’s become accustomed to. It was for the worse and he’s truly grateful to still be aware of that fact.

A bead of sweat drops down her face as she allows her mind to wander, to a time where things were simpler. When Blake belladonna could think of herself as a heroine, a force for good. Words are very strong, it's something she’s always believed. They create worlds, impart of heart and souls onto strangers, they change people. Their words, their our stories, their truth should have been enough. So they gathered and told their truth to change hearts and minds. They became neighbors to share in the burden of others, Faunus or otherwise. Yes, they even talked to Witches no matter how suspicious that made them appear. The White Fang existed to break down all barriers until we could all look each other in the eyes as equals, they’d be hypocrites to turn away Witches who did no harm. Witches with no desire to destroy who fought their worst impulses just like anyone else. They gave and hoped by giving humans would understand. That’s what the old White Fang believed, what her father taught her. She sighed her white breath taken by the wind. Words to bring about understanding and then cooperation finally change would come. 

Cooperation? Understanding? It felt like a joke! When the world refuses to listen to your words to see your actions! Even when the kind people in the world lend an ear they were left with was “good enough for you Faunus” and an equality as strong as wet paper! “Gifted” their own “nation” cut off from the world by a treacherous sea. A ‘land’ to call their own: an island infested with madness, monsters and Grimm! A gilded cage or more accurately a trap for their undesirables. A season without tragedy was celebrated like it was a miracle brought on by Death himself, sick of killing them for a change. How long would talking take, and in the meantime how many would be hurt? Too many good people on either side. So it all had to change; so they freed their hands to transform them into claws and stopped talking. Their speech wasted on men that rebuke change, instead they would meet the fangs they were named after. To rip the chains of this oppressive world that demanded them to be ashamed for their appearance. This world that would rather treat them like lesser than equals is wrong. By their own hands Faunus would be as free as anyone else! They would take their future back! When she fought she fought to defend. Her friends, her comrades, her people. She placed the signs and speeches into her heart to free her hands for what needed to be done. Her eyes flicker to the sword in her grasp. The weight of the crimson blade grows heavier every time she swings. Its searing heat that once a source of strength that of a loved one grasping her hand is now...a weapon in the truest sense. It was cold despite the heat, she could feel that in her soul.

“With our own hands...” She mumbled the cat ears atop of her flatten against her skull. She used to be able to say that with pride. They cripple the livelihood of those that grew fat off their labor and the poor. That profited from their suffering and took advantage of the stations that society smoothly guided them into. Shops that housed Faunus under the floorboards not even paying enough to survive. Landowners that over charged, or plainly turned them away with a half hearted excuse. The White Fang exposed people no matter how big or small all their crimes to the world; In Atlas workforces that were too harsh to be called labor camps. Exploiting poor humans ,Faunus, and even Witches alike. Extortion, whipping, burning, all because no one cared. To describe what she saw beyond that... would drive her mad, the scars on those incidents would never heal. The White Fang made places for Faunus . It started good, she firmly believed that. They defend their people on the streets for people that tried to drive them away for bringing madness, fear, for attracting evil. No longer would Faunus be tossed aside to save a community from their own bigotry, their own fear founded on lies, for being Grimm magnets, for misinformation, grudges, their forefathers or without foundation at all. They helped create settlements for their people who had nothing to their name, protecting them from the shadows of the world. Places where hatred would attract the Grimm who were all too ready to feast. They even defend the people from mad Witches forcing them away from settlements and saving their victims from fates worse than death. They made this world safer.

That's how it started, a force for good where everyone was better off. A presence that loomed over those who saw Faunus as uppity animals, a warning to treat people as equal as they are. And she would pray to any God who’d listen for it to have stayed that way. Fighting for justice and equality became...something else. It started out small, really it did, they just got more aggressive and showed little tolerance to their enemies. The businesses that they exposed in the past now they tore apart and took to further the White Fangs growth. She sure convinced herself it was necessary. Then the killings started. Exposing evil, getting justice, it didn't matter anymore as long as the punishment was dulled out. Even the Faunus that used to help out in the aftermath, they started helping them less and less as they moved on. The Faunus who didn't agree with the violence got branded as traitors to the race and the White Fang turned their fangs on them too. Each victory pushed them forward and literally made them stronger as if high on the power. But with success came more friction from the Kingdoms than ever, the White Fang needed more. More recruits, more resources, more power. She scoffed, that's the truth, that's what she’s been afraid to admit, running from it. It was all about the power now isn't it. To desolate their enemy so completely down to the very soul, and of which she watched her comrades partake. A demon weapon eating corrupted souls to deliver to the Reaper that was normal. She’d only seen it happen once but once was enough to devour an innocent soul it made her sick. She didn’t know when it started but she could feel how it changed some of them long before they changed physically. The souls tainted red their melody a warped war cry. Of their enemies, of those who stood up to them humans, Witches and Faunus. 

She felt more like a vehicle for vengeance than a guardian, a hero. Not at all like her father. The “coward” she swallowed a lump in her throat.

Her dad...he...was he wrong, that's what she thought but did he predict this would happen to the White Fang? Is that why he stepped down or did he not know how to prevent it? Was there a point in wondering that now, her hands were as red as they are? Yes there was a point, she’s glad she can admit it to herself. Of course she couldn't believe words alone could change anything but was this the only alternative? To be consumed like this? Her heart wavering, screaming at her to just follow it and leave, that too is something that's become routine more so the more red she sees. She watched her friends fall so far, worse she helped them, she swung the blade. She stared down at the sword once again, a shiver ran down her spine.

It's cold.

Just what was this feeling... the words were on the tip of her tongue. She was avoiding it for all she's worth.

Her ears twitch, she hears the rubble of the train, she feels the ground shake, long before she heard the whistle.

“Get ready, Blake.” The chokutō whispered a deep and calm voice that betrayed its own nature and appearance. Adam Torus the demon weapon, a White Fang leader, their sword in literal sense. Her supposed other half that she avoids as much as possible and redder than the leaves. 

“Right.” This job was a heist, a train transporting Dust that the White Fang would repurpose for their own uses. Not just any dust it was from Atlas and the Schnee’s company meaning the odds of them using living and breathing guards to protect their cargo was non-existent. She inhaled the scent of the forest, the air of nature filled her and she exhaled letting it all go with her nerves. She needed to focus. Sensing something was off, perhaps through her soul or what of it he can feel, Adam’s voice echoed in her ears.

“It won't be as exciting as usual but we have to do it. Let’s go or we’ll miss it.” Were those met to comfort her? He makes it sound like they're doing some minimal job, dust scores were some of their most important work. But she knew why he made it sound so boring, she was just running from it. Reaching into her pockets she slips on the thick black leather gloves, that had become a necessity when working with Adam.

Blake jumped. The wind howls in her ears along with the rumble of the approaching train and soon its whistle. She turns to the cliff behind her, gripping the sword in one hand she stabs the blade into the rock gravity dragging them down craving a fine line into the rough surface. After a minute they jerk to a halt left hanging from the side of the cliff. She can feel it, the heat surging from the demon sword. In the distance an observer with a keen eye would notice a glowing red light near the top of the cliff. Blake swings her legs back and forth gathering momentum to flip herself up planting her feet onto the katana. She crouches, balancing her footing like she’s on a board. The train finally comes into sight.

“That should be enough.” Adam smirks. The sword glows red, its form growing longer and fundamentally changing from the melee weapon into a rifle.

The cliff vanishes in a dazzling display of crimson that puts the forest to shame. A streak of red blends into the sky, and Blake guides it, shifting her body weight to steer them towards their destination. The back cars of the train, it's where their target lies. The energy cuts out as they dive towards the train. This is where Blake comes in. Her free arm glows a black flowing miasma of shadow. From shoulder to fingertips her arm becomes a black ribbon with a sickle like blade on the end. She can feel her arm forcing itself back to normal, so Blake gets to work and launches her new limb at the train. Carefully, she loops the ribbon around a window of the locomotive and hooks into it with the blade, her arms glows forcing itself back to a human shape snapping Blake to the blade as it becomes her hand once more. Blake pulls herself to the stop of the train and runs the rest of the way, blade in hand. Her ears perk up, she hears it over the wind, over Adam. Souls. In the other cars, dozens of souls none of them felt practically strong so the odds of them needing to deal with them were minimal. She frowns, the very idea made her stomach flip. Adam’s starts to say something but she doesn't hear it, no she hears it but it's not important. Her journey down the train comes to a close as she stands above the target car. She raises Adam above her head. The crimson sword sparks to life a intense red aura flowing to the tip. She takes a step forward on her right foot and swings arching the blade downward. For a brief fleeting moment their is a flash of red, the next the roof of the car has a hole cleaved into it. The pieces fall into the train crashing against the ground and rolling into the darkness as the train speeds away unaware of the breach. She takes a step forward letting gravity drop her into the car. Once again her ears perk up again a new noise, a loud whirring followed by the familiar sound of bullets whizzing through the air. Automated soldiers wielding rifles all lined up in front of their cargo. Blake doesn't have the chance to speak, they tear into and through her riddled with holes her body fades away. 

“Show time.” A robot’s head falls from its shoulders. She kicks the corpse into another machine it stumbles back and Blake takes a step forward and swings her arm to the side her blade scraps against the center of its head, wires and circuits spill out of its face. Its body crumbles to the ground, a heap of worthless steel. There's eighteen left, it wouldn't be a problem and Adam wasn’t feeling excited for this mission; she could end this quickly and as herself. That pop of gun fire and the machine let out another volley, her head snaps back as bullets tear into her skull and she fades away again. First she would get them all on one side, no need to get flanked even if these machines to slightly more mobile torrents. Blake ran right and dropped low, she slid beneath another gunman, taking its ankles as she moved. The machines don’t have time to wonder where she disappeared to this time as she drove her blade through the back of its chassis. She does wait for the bullets to fly, leaving a doppelganger she draws their fire to most recently defeated ally. 

She backflips the blade in her hand and glows and changes into a rifle once more. It was her turn to open fire. She let the bullets fly, glowing red pellets of her soul energy. Clean shots down the top of three of their heads and chests. Another shadow left behind as she lands, her gun becomes a blade once more, another swing and another head falls to her feet. She doesn't even have to kill the last one on the right side of the room. Their own gunfire does it for her, bullets fly through the machine without a single care to get a shot on her. She swings her sword weaving between bullets and catching them onto her sword, the red blade humming to life with each bullet cut down the area of impact gleams. When she swings a wave of red flows from her blade to carve them form across the room. She blocks, leaves behind a shadow, strikes and repeats. A practiced dance to make the most of Adam’s abilities and cause the least amount of suffering. He was sharp after all, with this she wouldn’t even need to resonate, she hoped. Could they even do that anymore? She stares down at her gloved hands as the last machine falls to her feet. They look chewed up, ruined, as if they weren't brand new. Adam himself even didn’t even notice that she started wearing gloves months ago. 

Staring down brings her attention to the bodies on the floor, her golden eyes narrow. Steel, and plastic, become flesh and bones blood dripping from the open wounds, their bodies twitching cut down too quickly to realize they were already dead. The scent of iron, the breaking of bones as she wields a sword like a club with enough force shatters a skull long after the sword passing through them. That wildfire boiling her heart and brain. That same fire that no longer travels passed her hands The disgust she felt after it was all done and the shame for not feeling disgusted sooner. For being worse than those who watched injustice take place. 

“Blake!” Adam barks her name, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Stop daydreaming, we have to check the cargo.”

“Yeah...Right. On it.” She mumbled her free hang curls into a fist digging her fingers as deep into her palms as the leather will allow. She looks around the cabin, its sparse not but the guards were machines not actual Huntsmen, no need for commodities. “Twenty guards for all of this?” Maybe they underestimated the White Fang in Sanus? Large black containers carefully tied to the floor. She uses Adam to cut one open and is greeted with boxes perfectly labeled with the types of dust continued in each. “So we're good to dismount the car now?”

“Close.” Adam grunts. “But not yet. Our job is not done yet.” He sounds excited, she could feel his grinning face as she stares at her reflection in the sword. “We’re destroying their train too. Get ready to resonate."

“But there's people, the crew is still on board!”

“What about them? They are transporting Schnee goods.”

“We can’t just-” An annoying screech reaches her ears, metal scrapes against the floor. She looks down to find a guard clawing its way towards her, it becomes a sheath for Adam. Something heavy slams against the ground shaking the car, it rumbles like a stampede and Blake is nearly trampled as she’s kicked aside by a hulking four legged arachne-like mech. Its fingers let loose rounds of gunfire that burst through the metal walls of the car letting in a rush of fresh air that floods the exposed container. Blake manages to avoid the hail of fire running around it and making use of her shadows as distractions. She leaps and her blade dances through the air harmlessly scraping against its hard armored plating. It swings its arm trying to throw her away. The entire car shakes and rattles as it stomps on the platform, its body whirls around knocking the thief to the ground, the large machine opens a compartment on its back revealing a large gun with dozens of barrels rotating at high speed. It’s fingers let out another round of bullets and her doppelganger takes the barrage as Blake slides out dashing behind the machine. She slips between its massive legs and gives it a few quick slashes of her sword to barely leave a dent on its surface. In fact, Adam glows as if he absorbed the impact. The machine’s spider-like legs kick at Blake knocking her back.

“Resonate.” Adam orders. “Their stupid if they think this thing is enough to take us on. Lets clean this up and teach these humans a lesson they won’t forget. To never look down on us.” 

“....” She’ll worry about what comes next after they finish this thing off. But more than that...she needed to face what she’s afraid of.

“ **SOUL RESONANCE** **!!** / ...Soul Resonance.”

“ **WILT.** ”

It's a fire. She can’t feel her fingers. The pads of her hand boil and burn the scent of scorched flesh overtaking the fresh air. Its fire, her heart pumps it out, in her veins she can hear it like a fresh pot of tea in the kettle, her blood’s bubbling. It pours from her lips to chase cool air. The world tilts and how dare it. Her bones crack. Standing up right hurts. Her fangs grind against one another. The human’s weapon points something at her, it’s a cannon? How dare they. What did she do to deserve this? Why can’t they understand?

We are not cowards.

Do not fear them.

Help us.

Save us.

Beat them!

Cut them!

Hate them!

Avenge us!

Killthem!

Rulethem!

Consumethem!

Witches! HUMANS! TRAITORS!

You're better than them!

MAke tHeM YOUR PREY!.

**  
  
**

It's all red. ALL red all red Redredredredredredreds. She’s dying. Blake Belladonna is dying again. She’s drowning in blood, it's all her fault. Her thoughts are burning and used as fuel to burn her senses, her morals. Her. All to cinders. For power to avenge her people to protect her people. So why is it so cold? An eerie wind screams in her ears, it's a roar. She’s freezing. Where is the cold coming from? Where is the fire coming from?

She runs, there's no grace here, she moves like an animal. Her hands and feet beat against the steel floor. On her right arm the demon sword has taken root, red crystal like vines embedded in her arm. She drags the sword against the train, cleaving it apart with ease. Blood drips from her maw as she howls her voice rips through the air, the machine, to cargo are flung to the walls. She attacks. It’s legs come undone, it cracks and twists flopping underneath it. She jumps, planting her heel into its chassis, metal bends, creaks, and breaks pushed into itself. Her kick blowing it back, sparks flying as it tumbles into another car. The machine whirs angry, it glows then it shines. She screams, lava dripping from her eyes and nose. She places her left hand on the back of the sword holding it before. 

“Take what they give and return it tenfold!” Adam roars!

She listens but not to him, she hears the people. With their bond he can hear it too.

He can feel the terror from the humans in the other cars! As they should be! This is only a fraction of what they deserve. Until they learn their place as prey! Victims! Faunus! We are not prey! We are KINGS! **LIONS not pets** ! **KINGS** ! But IF We muSt be **BeAsts** then they’re our **meat**. 

A beam of light races across the car to devour her and reduce the pair to ashes.

She cuts the light making it Adam’s. 

"KILL THEM!" He roars. "WE WILL NOT COWER! WE FILL FIGHT! BARE OUR FANGS!"

**“Please, I believe we can work together!” The plea of a kind man chimes in her soul.**

She swings her arm and the roots rip free.

The world goes red.

Adam. The White Fang. The fire. 

It all wilts away.

“This is wrong, Adam. we’re wrong.” Blake whispers with a tired smile she stares at the red chokutō stuck into the ground where she tossed it. “This wasn't right either.” The car, the machine, even a layer of trees, it's all been wiped away. The cold air flows freely as the clouds lazy pass overhead unaware of the potential devastation below. The links have been severed in more ways than one, the train rumbles along much slower than before even though the cargo and several cars have been lost. The blade flashes red then she sees the cold made manifest, despite the passion and rage burning within it was empty. Nothing can grow in the cold no matter how much you burn. “I don’t hate them, at least not like this.” 

“Blake?” A bone white mask, three red vertical lines painted across it, to emulate the beasts he so wanted to become. Red hair slicked back, worn, chipped and long black horns sprout from his hairline curl backwards from his head. Skin warm to the touch red marks tracing align his veins like vines. A black suit and pants covered in a red petal pattern, each with a vicious eye like they’re predating the world around him. Lips ajar in shock revealing sharp fangs in place of teeth stained red by his own blood that trails over his lips. He coughs and hacks a wade of blood splatters against the ground. He wipes the blood from his mouth paying it no mind. “What are you doing?” His fingers twitch, red digits and nails reflective like a sword.

“Adam can you tell me...what are we doing any more? What are you fighting to achieve?” 

“The same thing we’ve always fought for, Blake. Our place. Our comrades. Our rights to-”

“Our rights to what? Be like them?! To kill like-!?” She croaked, her throat raw and dry. ”This...All of this has gone too far...no it went too far a long time ago. We’re not fighting to be heard anymore; to make them see us! What they do to us! We’re not fighting to protect ourselves. Not even to change things. We’re just...burning ourselves inside and out. We’re not changing anything... just conquering everything with fear.” To stand aside for injustice is evil. To not do everything in your power to fight it was evil. As a demon weapon, as a Faunus, and as a person Blake Belladonna could not be party to it not anymore. The current White Fang. she’d do it herself, set it right back onto a better path. The evils of humans she’d manage. She’d fight both and find her own way.

“Burning...You...what?” It's a whisper that she barely hears. He sounds like he’s been betrayed. She looked down at her burned hands, her gloves nothing more than scraps, the fresh blisters, and raised her palms for him to see. Even with his face covered she can see him tense. it looks like he just noticed. He really couldn't hear her soul anymore but the evidence is too plain to see. He stared down at his bloody hand, the blood on the floor, the irony taste in his mouth now he realizes where the injury came from. Partner rejection is a two-way street, he was too strong, too angry to notice it himself before now. “Then this...it's from you?” He could make the jump and sprint his way here despite the distance but he’s too shocked to move. She can still tell that much. She could hear it clearly, his wrath wavering for a moment. Both she and he knew that he embodied the views of the White Fang just as their leader Sienna Khan does. To reject him could only mean one thing. “This can’t...Blake!” He cries out the gap between them widening to the point where she can barely see him but she could hear him clear as day. “We’re right! They won’t give it to us so we have to take it! Our rights, their place and everything else! They earned this and so much more! You know that! You’ve seen it! **You can’t take their side!** Look at me! Tell me I’m fucking wrong!?”

“...Goodbye.” Blake bites her lip looking away from her partner, her friend that her very soul rejected.

She left him and the White Fang behind, just like she did her father. 

She ran away again but this time towards something better. A future where she could hold her head up high. Now she just needed get some distance from Adam and to not get arrested when the train stops.

**  
  
**

Meister: Blake Belladonna

\----

Demon Weapon: Adam Torus: Crimson Chokutō-rifle

Resonance rate: partnership dissolved

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I care not why you crave it but it's clear what you desire.  
> POWER.  
> But what is the power you seek? What form will your power take to achieve your dream? What will you achieve with it?  
> You, who wish, have peered into the abyss.  
> I who grant POWER see and hear you.  
> I look forward to seeing it.


	3. Spirit ~ Mirror~ Pumpkin~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A black cat burglar doubles as a moral support cat for a rich dysfunctional family.  
> A girl prepares for the concert of her life.  
> A daughter father combo once again cuts down evil.  
> A witch coven wanders the cold  
> Clover is too powerful to make an appearance this early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this! Fuck that moon! Fuck humans! Fuck Death! Fuck that pale witch bitch! Fuck that stupid sythe meister!FuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...  
> He really doesn’t shut up, how did they put up with this ?

_**Ch 3: _~Pumpkin ~Mirror ~Spirit_**_

Where is this you ask yourself? Why, it is the most powerful place on the planet, that is if you ask a white collar from Atlas. **The** Altas military compound, or Atlesian command center to be exact, the crown jewel of military operations in Atlas and arguably all of Remnant. Possibly one of the most well guarded places on the face of the planet. The focal point of all Atlas military operations from their rank and file soldiers to their special operatives huntsmen loyal to Atlas above all else their greatest warriors in body, mind, and spirit. Cover in soldiers 24/7, in constant communication with other compounds on the outside and various stations hidden within it. Overhead airships float a constant warning to all who approach. Meisters with sensitive wavelengths work all hours on the compound keeping watch for Witches and those “infected” with madness. They even had a small task force made of "reformed" witches led one of their top operatives. Against the chaotic nature of Witches Atlas It is the safest place on all of Remnant and the most efficient in their use. This fortress is also where the most important assets of the nation are stored. Living or otherwise.

You would have to be a fool to make any sort of attempt here of all places. Insane. Or a badass.

“Is that a cat?” At the corner of a screen a tail flicks before entering the shadows of the building. 

“Is that a cat?” The other guard mocks, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet up on the counter. “Don’t be stupid how would a cat even get in here? We can’t even have food or drinks up here!” He waved his hands at the screen; his partner shook her head. A shadow streaks across the screen as the two begin to talk.

“Yeah, I can read, dick. But don't those guys on the floor below us have that new pet cat strolling around? Maybe it hitched a ride up here?” The soldier crosses her arms , she kicks her foot against the ground to spin her seat to face her partner. “Can cats use elevators?” 

“Wha, but, what? That's not fair! I want an office cat! Those guys get everything. Deluxe Coffee machine, chairs with back support, their own mugs!”

“We got a party didn’t we?”

“Wow, Haru. A whole box of donuts, you know I’d be happy about that....if we didn’t snatch it from the lower floors!!”

“Well fuck me, Vio! Don’t bitch to me about ‘em! Not like I get to work down there either man. Still that cat’s somewhere down there ain't it? We could keep it as a mascot for our floor right?”

“...General Ironwood would kill us if we left our post. Not to mention Ms.Winter.” Violet slumps in his seat. “Let's just floor that conversation.”

“...Yeah...Hey?” The talkative guard whirls to look at her partner. On one of the monitors there are more Atlesian soldiers monitoring various screens just as they are. If you looked carefully you could see it in the shadows. A black figure weaves between the seats of their coworkers. “Heeeeey.”

“...”

“Hey-yo.”

“.......”

“Heyheyhey~.”

“.........”

“He~ey.”

“For the love of the Brothers.... Yes. What Haru?”

“...You ever wonder why we-”

“No. No Haru. No I do not. Never do. Never will again.”

“What's wrong friend? Are you afraid of exploring the deeper mysteries of the world? Listening clearly for the sound of your own soul? Answering the truths about how we came to be? Where could we have been? How it all came together. The sheer madness of it all if we're just random chance? Is there a grand design so perfect that -”

“Haru, please don’t do this to me.” He sighed, knocking his helmet back to probably bury his face in his heads.

“Fine. You’ll crack eventually.” Shrugging her shoulders Haru spins her seat around to face the cameras. “You know it tingles your brain.”

“Tch”.The guard clicks his teeth. “ Yeah sure and maybe the Schnee’s will go without a business scandal this year? Maybe Mantle will get cleaned up too? Maybe I’ll get a heated seat like those dicks on the 9th floor!” He scoffed.

“...I-is your butt cold?” Haru frowns.

“...Anything on your monitors?” Violet grunts shifting in his seat.

“Well Gin’s left his post to raid a vending machine he’s laying in the spoils again but..nothing, really? Hm? Wait. What's that?” She leans forward squinting at one of the monitors.

“What's going on? You see something, Haru? OR did you think about the perpetual cycle of food waste?”

“Perpetual what?Oh that...You never listen to me, the food situation in Mantle and Atlas is gross you really shouldn't joke about it.”

“Ah right I forget your from there sometimes. Actually that doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

“Hmph.”she holds the pout on her face for a few seconds only for it to crack into a grin. “Good. You do list- Wait. I felt...Something is up here? But it was weird? Not a person...”

“A Witch?”

“No? I’m not...No. If a witch got here they wouldn't drop their soul protect with witnesses around. Not here of all places. Everyone on this floor is still fine after all. And the WCKD squad won't be back on time, they predict an extra day or two. That was Ms.Winter’s estimate for the investigation and hunt, the last time we were updated.”

“Well what is it then?”

“It was like a big anim-”

“Mrrow?”

“Huh? Oh shit now way.“ Haru pinches her cheek.

“The fuck? Is that a cat?”

“Mew!”

Poking its head into the room a tiny place cat meows softly idly grooming itself without a care in the world. Not about where it is, but about the pair of trained atlansien soldiers looming over it. On its head was a stylish witch hat whose tip curled back into a deep swirl. “Nya~aaaaaaa!”

“...”

“The fuck? those witches can have a cat!? Is it familiar?”

“It’s-maybe? It’s soul is pretty fat for a normal cat.”

“It’s kinda big too.” Violet chuckles.

“How did I not notice this until now? How did no one notice this until now? Might be from Vacuo, you know how things are from there. Better report it to the General, just to be safe. ” The cat yawns, leaning forward stretching out its body like an unraveled spring, its tail flicking about without a care in the world.

“Nyaah, that’s no good. I just need to borrow your little playhouse for a while, don't mind me!” In their defense the two soldiers sprang into action the moment words left the cats mouth but as soon as they stood they slumped to the ground resting their heads against each other. "Also. I’m pleasantly plump, not fat.“ Seats empty, the black cat hops onto a chair and the pleased meow rings in the air. “Hmhmhm. Well then that’s all of them!” She giggled into her paw, her golden eyes glide form screen to screen soldiers daze in a simple little trance. “Hmhmhmhm.” With a flick of her tail the cat hops out of the seat and leaves the room in silence. Having staked out the compound for months soon the time for the perfect heist would arrive. The team of witches and their handler wouldn’t be arriving from the tundra below until the day after tomorrow and she would be ready. Her practice run through was also a success, each and every soldier was putty in her paws moving between floors and taking them down like she did tonight would be like begging for fish. Easy. Her long shadow paints the white halls of the compound black as she trots away from this place. She’s waited a long long time but she’s finally so close to her goal, better not mess it up now. Hopping into the air she lightly taps the call button for an elevator swaying side to side humming a tune as she waits. With a light chime the elevator opens, the cat strolls right in humming to the elevator music. As the door slides close the cat nods her body along to the music. The perfect way to end today would be a nice long bath along with a plate of sushi! But what high class piece of fine fish is complete without equally high class drinks!?

Ding!

Ground floor and our cat strolls right out just as easily as she walks in every day. For the past three years she’s waited for this moment where everything would be lined up. Three years she’s made the act of getting in and snooping down to an art form, her sleeping catnip and light hypnosis made light work of anyone that would question the cats actions without drawing attention from the big boys and girls roaming the halls. After all, she may be the world’s strongest cat but even she might not have enough lives left to get out of here alive while facing their greatest operatives all at once. But now, the lucky man was on a mission and from what she heard he wasn’t even in the kingdom. Meanwhile, her target was in the wild outside of this fortress and all its secret rooms. Though fighting the one who has it isn't something she really wants to do but with her clever planning that won’t be an issue! When it's returned she can find the room and take it later. No muss no fuss. With that Clover gone luck was on her side as usual. The white ceiling is replaced by cloudy skies and the glowing transparent barrier that covers Atlas. A pleasant chill brushes her fur. No matter the season the temperature in Atlas never really changes; the heating makes sure that nothing more than a fashionable jacket or beautiful fur is necessary. Though, the cat pauses in her musing as a cute couple kneels down to pet her the pair of gentlemen even tossed her a treat, in a cushy city like this one it was still a surprise to find she needed a subtle hand. But she’s a pro! She’s been to tougher towns and fought tougher opponents and walked out of all it alive! 

“Well I did lose a life or two but I have plenty more!” As she walks through the city she takes in the people, not just the ones that stop to coo over her, she really looks at them. Smiling without a care, walking the streets in the dead of night as if it were mdi-day and not midnight. It was unlike anywhere else she’d been in the last few years of her long life. The very idea that someone could attack them, that a monster could appear, none of that registered among the people. They had nothing to worry about, they wanted for nothing at all. No predators and the only Witches she knew of were the likes of WCKD. Chained. Her ears twitch and overhead a drone zooms past. She huffed slipping away from the public streets to an unnaturally clean alley. With no effort her feet leave the ground bouncing off the walls and taking her to the roof. Her paws take her, far from the city of Atlas each step, every leap brought her to the fringe of the city. In the shadows of night her golden eyes were like tiny sparkles. She can see far below, down to Remnant, to Mantle the city that sits under the floating marvel known as Atlas. It's like looking in a broken mirror. She’d spent a year down there not really searching but just helping, a worthwhile sidetrack if she’s ever had one. It didn't take her long to figure out where she was supposed to go but one thing led to another and she just ended up staying. It wasn’t safe, barely any warmth but she loved the place. Honesty, simplicity. She’d have to drop down with another bounty of goodies sometime. Not anytime soon, sadly, after she puts her plan into action both cities are bound to be put into lockdown. It’ll no doubt cause them a lot of hassle but she has no choice. It’s for family. She stares up at the moon, it's still laughing after all this time, like it's mocking the world even with its missing teeth and chucks of itself. She sticks her tongue out blowing a raspberry at the celestial body.

Done reminiscing she gets a move on once again but not back to the city she goes around the farm land heading towards a cliff. Or more practically the mansion that sits atop it. Schnee manor. Half the reason she doesn't want to start a fight, even though she’d win. She leaps sailing through the air and lands gently on a balcony. Time for a nice bubbly bath!

Channeling magic she changes her form shifting and growing even the hat on her head grows larger. A tight dark purple dress that catches the moon's corrupted light hugs her curves. Her long purple hair flows down to her knees, the ends curling upwards. Two of her bangs curl on either side of her face into swirls. Unrecognizable as the cat save for her hat, her collar, and glowing ember eyes, the monster cat AKA Blair strolls inside the home that's practically her own. It's quiet and dark but that’s this family’s normal. It's only on certain occasions that sound bounces off the halls. Either a party or a fight. U could say this family reflects Atlas really well. They wanted for nothing but it all felt so empty. The manor had far too many guest rooms which was fine for her as it meant she could pretty much just pick anyone to make use of as she pleased without worrying of being discovered.

“Hm!Hm!Hm!” With a pep in her step she shimmies out of her dress she snaps her fingers, pumpkins spawn out of thin air, and swirl in a dance around her. She snaps her fingers, the door to the bathroom swings open. The faucet turns a stream of hot water flows the steam and fog slowly follows as the warmth spreads through the room and rushes over her form. She snaps her fingers and the toiletries join her pumpkins in their dance. She skips her slapping against the cold floor, she takes a tiny hop landing in the large bath with a splash of the water running over the sides and spilling on the floor. She sighs submerging herself in resting her feet on the rim of the bath. Her hat hops off her head rolling into the water under her legs. It’s a bit late for his introduction but Zukun, her hat, is her loyal familiar. He's been working hard lately! A bottle of pumpkin scent soap hovers above her along with a brush. She stretches out a leg and the bottle tips pours the green liquid it runs down foot, over leg and thigh. Her brush rubs over her legs soap and water cascading down into the bath. She shifts twirling her finger, leaning over the edge of the tub laying her head on her arms and pressing her breasts to the smooth porcelain surface. Moving her hair and exposing her back for the brush to dance along on her back. Her ears twitch a song carried through the walls meets her and Blair can’t help but make up a song.

“Pumpkin, pump-kin!"

“Seachin’ for my lost-kin!

Wherever their gone i'm sure I’ll find (yeah!)”

  
“Can't eat nya!(nope!) Blairs on a mis-sion! (Yup)

Where’d they go?(who knows!) 

To the moon or the sun?

Just where did they run?”

“Blairs not a know-it-all(not blair!)

From deserts , to cities, to snowfall(hm)

I’ll gladly search it all

When I find’em we’ll all have a ball!

Together with the pump pum pump-kins!”

Her bath done Blair’s hat crawls out of the water, shaking off the moisture like a dog, it crawls up the monster’s body to rest on her head where it belongs. A towel wraps itself around her, feet pattering against the dry floor Blair strolls out of the guest room into the manor proper. It’s dark, and though it's clearly heated there can be no doubt about the coldness you feel walking these halls. The muffled music still bounces off the walls drawing the cat. Though she already knows what its source is. 

“Practicing pretty late~” The cat grin nearly splits her face. A crack of light paints the floors and walls, a shimmer of life. A door is open but there's no music, only a deliciously fruity scent. Blair peeks into the room to find the matriarch of the household. The white haired woman sprawled out on a guest bed, a bottom helplessly dumping its contents onto the ground. No glass to be found but plenty of empty bottles. The woman really could pack them away. 

“Oh, Mama. Can’t let em catch you like this right?” Well their butler Klein and her daughters are probably all too used to the sight. “Whitley especially doesn’t take it too lightly. Pump-pum-pumpkin-cleaning!” Simple is best when cleaning so Blair popped the empty bottles with her pumpkins. The matriarch of the did not respond to the noise at all. Blair fetches the bottle from the floor, taking a deep sip, she licks her lips. “Now what to do with you?” Blair takes a seat next to Willow, the soft bed doesn't even shift with the added weight and draws the cat-woman in with ease but that's expected for a bed within the Schnee manor! Top class, speaking of which, she glances down at the hot mess of beauty. Blue robe disheveled barely covering her modesty and stained from her drinks. White hair, let loose from her usual ponytail, frames her head like a halo. Scandalous. “Sheesh you're worse than Papa but you throw them back harder too so I guess it balances out in a cosmic way.” It was such a shame that she drank alone, what was the point? It was just sad, with her wealth she could go find a nice cabaret and surround herself with men and women to pour her woes out to. Like Blair, the cat was always open to hear someone's woes and a fun time! A drunken encounter with the two of them... would be fun. “Oops! Blair doesn't fantasize she gets action! Entices! Seduces!” The cat chastises herself. “Lets you get you squared away Mama! We can’t have your ass and chest hanging out like that.” Blair giggles fishing off Willow's drink herself. It has a nice burn on the way down.

W

“Mirror~ Mirror~

Tell me something -~

Weiss Schnee, youngest daughter and middle child of Willow and Jacques Schnee. Big sister of Whtiley Schnee and younger of Winter Schnee. Sings a sad song in her practice room. To motivate her singing, right now she’s thinking about her father and the ridiculous challenge he’s given her to keep her locked in this gilded cage. To attend a huntsman academy on her own terms, without a “partner” picked out by him or his influence. It’s something that Winter never told her about so it's something that he probably decided when she left the house never to return. Rather than lose a second daughter he would control how she moves and setting her up with a partner was the start of it. It’s one of the many reasons she is going to an academy in a different Kingdom. That is if the concert two days from now went to plan. A performance featuring her abilities as a weapon and her grace as a heiress. That’ll show him and her instructor who just went along with her father’s instruction.

“Mirror, tell me something

Tell me, who's the loneliest of all?

Fear of what's inside me

Tell me, can a heart be turned to stone?”

  
  


She stopped her singing and turned to find nothing but the door to her practice room opened slightly. ‘It looks like I left it open again,’ the heiress thought with a shrug, it's not like it really mattered this late. The only one that would be up this late was Klein, well Blair would be too but who knows where that cat would find herself. Weiss turned back to the mirror and her face was squished and the scent of pumpkins filled her senses.

Soft.

Lightly tanned skin pressed against her face while a pair of hands cradled her head pulling her closer deeper into a valley.

“Wow Wow you're really working hard hehehe. You were practicing even when I left this morning and you're still at it~” A hand ruffles her snow white hair. “Good good, you're gonna look so cool!”

A fresh wave of blood flowed to her face and Weiss’s brain turned back on. Flailing her limbs the blushing heiress tried and failed to detangle herself form the tall monster cat. Intelligent ramblings spilled from her mouth much to Blair’s laughter causing more things to jiggle and Weiss steamed.

“How many times do I have to tell you! Don’t do that! And-” Weiss eyes betray her brain and glance down at the cat’s attire. Her bath towel wrapped around her shoulders like a scarf. It took a moment for mind to come up with a response. “WHY!!? Why are you like this!? What if someone catches you!?” Weiss grabs Blair’s wrist pulling her out of her practice room all the while blushing, pushing, shushing a laughing Blair while flashing her sharp teeth. Moments later the cat flops back onto Weiss bed. Pushing that moment to the back of her mind Weiss huffed at the monster cat lounging on her bed laying on her stomach and kicking her legs back and forth. They moved here to get more privacy and to hopefully force Blair to put on a robe.

“Catch who? Me? Nya likely..” Blair giggled rolling over resting her arms beneath her head crossing one leg over the other. Weiss buries her face into her hands. “It's not that big a deal anyway it's not like you explode anymore, right? Hehehehe, I kind of miss that though you used to be so cute! Like a firework every morning!”

“...It wasn’t every morning.” Weiss huffed freeing a hand to rest on her hip, the first time she saw Blair’s true form was not a memory that would be displayed, not even by Weiss. “Anyway, put some clothes on!” The supposed cat owner groaned, the spring in her bed creaked as Blair was no doubt rolling around or doing something equally perverse.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna peek?” Weiss could feel Blair winking at her, as if trying to show her embarrassment her ears heated up as well.

“Blair...No. I do not want a peek.” Weiss chose that moment to do something productive and look for a spare robe seeing as Blair had no intention of doing it herself.

“Boo.” Blair sighed. “You don't even stutter when you pretend and act all cold to me anymore!”

“Who was pretending!?” Weiss grumbled rubbings her temples.

“He~y now. What if someone comes to check on you with all that screaming you gotta keep it down Weissy.” Blairs whispers lightly bullying Weiss.

“You do not get to say that after prancing around all-” Like a fool Weiss regrets turning around to see Blair posing like a swimsuit model.

“All?” Blair giggles.

“...!” The heiress's ears brushed pink and turned around again. “Anyway, Do you feel like telling me what you got up to all day?” Weiss fished knowing the answer.

“Super secret.” Blair pressed a finger to her lips with a whisper and received a white robe to the face. It was annoying to have her question brushed aside like that but it's not like Weiss had many secrets in the first place. In fact Blair might be her only one and regardless of Blair’s mischief she always came back. “But rather than worry about that~ are you sure about this? A concert and combat test, a little much don’t ya think?”

“Hmph, I can handle it Blair and even if I couldn't the alternative isn't worth thinking about. I refuse to be under his thumb. If fear is going to keep me pinned here then I would rather be recklessly brave than smart and caged.” Weiss leans against her dresser with a small smile. “I... have to have courage right?” Blair looks at her with an odd expression, one that Weiss even all this time couldn't quite piece together.

“...Yep.” Blair nods, snapping her fingers. “You know you're secretly a wild one~” Blair teases poking Weiss in her sides.

“Wild isn't the world I would use. "Weiss huffed. "But thank you Blair. I think I get what your saying."

"Its what I'm here for." The cat purrs.

"I just wish Winter could see it.” Weiss whispers quietly to herself Winter would probably scold her for getting hung up on something like that.

“Who knows you might get lucky!” Blair giggles.

"Hmph. Hurry up and put on the robe."

"But tis so small I might as well be-" Blair was smacked with a pillow relentlessly. 

W

The tundra pure white wasteland that Atlas hovers above a marvel of technology and that Mantle the city below must endure. It’s claimed many lives. Huntsman, criminal, and civilian alike. It's no place for anyone to be. There's nowhere to grow food, no shelter that grimm have not claimed or just hasn’t been made plain unreliable due to the unstable dust. There's no warmth to find or make the wood damp and cold; hail and snow can fall at any moment. What game there is to hunt requires hours of travel. To put it bluntly it's not a place to live, just like her home. Despite this... gazing down from the valley Winter can see it clearly as absurd as it is. 

“[[[[.[[[[[. [[[[[.” A pitch black human skull, the mouth stuck as if force opened, a glow radiates from behind it’s jaws. Its body is colorful and is a mass of thin fluttering membranes in the shape of a dress. With every movement the massive sleeves and loose parts of the dress swirl around it. Like a woman dressed to go to a ball. Its movement exposes the layer of flesh underneath as if its skin had been torn and frayed. A lone tattered white stripe of light wraps around the skull like a halo. It’s surrounded by men and women of various ages. They bow, faces pressed so deeply into the dirt they scrap and peel off on the icy ground. They plead grasping at its garment's sobs an incoherent mess. It caresses their heads one by one silencing their cries like a mother watching over her children. They cry into her-it’s robe! No its skin! It turns its head revealing a glowing star system within its mouth. Something in her soul twists to the beat of her life to reacting to some tune she doesn't know. “[[[[.[[[[!” It's eye sockets curve into a soft expression. Like her mother used to...What? It pulls the people to their feet and twirls a rattle echo into the icy night. Music stomping feet echo into the arctic wasteland filling it with life.. To her shame she only now notices the setting around them. Stands with piping hot food and drinks. A band. Children’s games. The people , the Grimm they’re having a festival.”[[[[[?” The skeletal woman looks at her beckons Winter to say hello to her long los-

“H-hey...K! K! It’s-”

“Oh Great witch... They come when the bell is rung, when the humans gather and call out...Oddment. It was only a matter of time I suppose...”

“It's...An Oddment cult...we have to go back! If they're here it must be here too!” The witch hisses. “I’m not fighting that thing! It’s death! Death! We’re going to die! That's a frickin freaky god! A **real** one!”

“Cai. Your a full blown witch you cannot-”

“What are we doing, Boss? Boss?” Their words slur together and she can’t even tell who's speaking.

“...”The specialist takes deep breaths. Her education, her routine, it crawls back to the forefront of her mind. Regulations, her training, her academy days, she hates her father, her mother disappoints her, she loves her younger siblings, her sister’s cat is weird and over affectionate. Her previous partner was...gone. Facts of life that could never be confused. She lets out a sigh. “...Focus.”

Oddment is the term that Witches use to describe this species of grimm but seeing it up close for the first time in her life she no longer believes calling them Grimm is truly accurate either. She’d heard about them in the academy everyone did, **_DI3_ **,the most unique breeds of grimm. They're said to be the last of old grimm breeds that have gone extinct. Too smart and capable of planning able to clear whole settlements alone with varying degrees of violence. No evidence other than the testimonies of those left behind. Paintings, songs, fairy tales, horror stories made real. In person...it is not a normal Grimm she’s sure of that more than her own name right now. She’d seen people praise and even throw themselves to a grimm. Sacrifices one another to stave off grimm, throwing away those who just can’t be happy or hold in their feelings. Those who indulge and let their fear and feelings run rampant. Those who let madness run deep into their souls. The reasons are too numerous to count. It’s usually in settlements outside of the kingdoms, places where hope is fragile. Where death and the struggle for survival rules in the truest sense. ‘It would appear Mantle can now be counted amongst their number.’ She solemnly thought, staring at the people.

The Apathy is a species of grimm that can rob you of drive and feeling but was this like that? No that at all. This was more than a compulsion. Something stirred her soul. Just looking at it made her feel...to feel something like that again. It was disturbing and that's as far as she dared to take that train of thought. She could theorize later. She wasn’t looking forward to the fallout for Mantle when she made her report. Their mission was to exterminate a pair of Lunar Grimm that they were tracking. The Grimm stands its garment-skin flowing on the breeze, it takes a step towards their hiding spot.

“Have you come back to Remnant, dear Knight?” K remarks her fingers go to her lips as if to smoke her pipe and simple sighs instead. “Wonderful.” Her long black hair drapes over her shoulders an in place of her pipe she fiddles with it.

“...Boss?” Dormath the muscular witch tilts her head her uneven blonde himecut following with the motion. The tattoos over her are mostly covered saved for the black circles on her cheeks and the moon on her forehead.

“For Mother’s sake! Why are you asking her!?It's not even here and she-she’s lost it! It has her! We have t-” Caiyoot shouts pulling on her short red hair. What, that can’t be right? Winter blinks and the Grimm is gone. All that's left is the festival, the cult, and a prop in the center of it all. A skeleton draped in fine robes and feathers, bright colors at odds with the snowy white around it.

“Enough...enough. I’m fine.” The Schnee grunts turned to the other members of WCKD. She’d never seen them all this panicked. Not all at once at least. The closest was when they were brought together and WCKD was formed. Right or wrong they were her responsibility , she chose this and would not let them down. It was the least she could do as a human being. “We have a mission, we tracked the grimm near here. With all these people here, they must be close.”

“Very well.” K. chuckled into her hand.

“Our missi-areyou-Thisis-!”

“Understood...”

“You said it yourself it's not here, it's only a Grimm cult.” Madness causes hallucinations even second hand...she simply got caught up in their flow. It was her first time in a while feeling such madness it was only natural. The laugh of the moon got to her. Keeping these thoughts in head like a mantra she put the stars out of her mind. “Nothing more. Lunar breeds stir up other grimm easily so neither of them should be too hard to find.” She could feel the unease in all of them. “I’ll protect you like always.” Winter stands up, losing her cool like that was shameful. She had a job to do.

“Right then.” K. nods. “You seem to have collected yourself, for now.”

“I can’t believe this; you say a cool line after that- whatever better than **_going back_ **.”

“...understood.” Dormarth nods.

Winter nods. “Let's get to work ladies.” She spares a glance at the members of her team. Team WCKD, the hounds of Atlas. Each as a silver choker clamped tightly around their necks matching a silver spike that runs through their back branching out within their bodies all the way through to the dulled tip that pokes just above their abdomen. All topped off with big, and in Winter's opinion, childish witch hats. The witch hats aren't; apart from the uniform in fact they’re not allowed just like the familiars but Winter saw no reason to deny them the small comforts she could.

“K. Caiyoot, take to the air. Dormarth you’re with me, scout ahead to the hills to the east.” WInter places a hand on the cases on the witches’ backs, her aura flows into them and with a quiet click they open two brooms floating out. Along with the brooms she brushes her fingers against each of their spikes and chokers turn from red to green. “If you meet the Lunar grimm, do not engage. Just report it and wait for instructions...The same goes if you see...anything else. Understood?” The timer has started. Thirty minutes of magic followed by an hour of cooldown.

“Go.” The K’s of the teams hop on their respective brooms blasting off into the air. Winter glanced back to the cult and as she thought they paid the sudden burst of snow no mind. Dormath drops to her hands to the ground leaning over the ground breaks off into a sprint much like a hound, following after Caiyoot kicking up a flurry of snow as she goes. It shouldn't take long, in fact the cult makes it easier. Their display before the celebration began. Their tears, whaling, anguish. It would soon be like moths to the flame. “No wait a moment...” Winter stops in her tracks. How long was she out of it? How long was she simply watching them. How long had that illusion ruined her perception of time? “Why...” The grimm where were they? This was their territory looking for the Lunar ones aside, the regular grimm should already be on them so where...”Where are the grimm? K. Caiyoot! What are you seeing!?”

“Hm? No sign of those red demons,” K. presses her knuckles to her lips. “Ah...”

“Same, so what?”

Nothing.

“Enemy...nowhere. All clear.”

“Nothing...” She turns around blue ices scanning the pure white that surrounds them. 

“Oh great I thought we were going to have a clear night...” Caiyoot whines over the comms. Snow begins to fall. After the research team was attacked WInter’s team was sent to investigate upon finding what was left and she was ordered to immediately hunt the grimm down forgoing a proper investigation. That order rushed them blind into the dark. They attacked a research team and wiped them out but how had they escaped in the first place? She thought they had fled and the snow covered their tracks but dismissed that. This was the first snow fall all day, a very rare occurrence where snow’s not falling. The red snow carried on for miles and then vanished. It could have froze to their forms, that's what she assumed. Now she was wondering. Could they have... covered their tracks, dug or maybe flown? Lunar grimm weren’t truly smart but they learned faster than other grimm which was why their execution was so important. Covering their own tracks was not impossible. She stared down at her own shadow, the blood moon mocking her foolishness.

“Moving on.” Dormarth suddenly announces. Winter blinks, snapping her gaze of the witch who prepares to move on to the next hill. The ground beneath her feet shifts. The witches dog ears twitch.

“Dormarth! come bac-” The snow beneath her erupts rocks and ice flying in all directions. A red deer-like skull breaches our form the ground snapping at the witch. It crunches down on her back, sharp fangs through her spine and stomach. It's massive, so large that it's the size of a car, a distorted Wendigo head. Its black form dyed blood red, a circle pattern painted all over its body save for the bone-like mask that covers half its face which is pure red. It chomps down on the witch in its maw, the grimm’s from bubbles and shakes with each crunch.

That's one and no time to pull out her **Death Scythe** . “K.” her palm slaps against the ground, a sigil blooms under her and dozens more appear around the area. “Catch her.” Drawing her saber, Winter runs, her body made weightless by her sigils. With a flick of her wrist a column of ten glyphs appear in her path, she jumps and thrusts her saber forward. She’s pulled forward the distance between her and the Lunar Grimm dropped from meters to mere inches. “Drop her.” Her blade ignites with flame slicing a chunk of its jaw away, which falls and fades into a puddle of goo. The puddle bubbles up turning into spikes trying to drill holes into her body only to scrape her sides and chip away at her aura as it flares around her. K. dives down scoping Dormarth off the snowy floor and loops back into the air in one smooth motion. Winter’s aura flows through the case on her back as her glyphs back to her away from the howling grimm, its body diving back underground. A thin black polearm tipped with a cross fits in her palm as she sheathes her saber. The strongest Demon Weapon in Atlas: **Spirit**. Despite appearances it’s heavy as ever, those short moments when she’s able to wield it properly, a feat no other specialist could claim. “We’re going with Execution-3. Get into position!”

The ground shifts, and for a moment Winter wonders how something like this can move underground with such stealth and little disturbance, black muck springs forth like a geyser. 

“I knew you would attack differently. Though, I never thought you could turn into icor at will. You're at stage 2 barely able to maintain your physical form.” Winter calmly remarks, closing her eyes as the wave crashes down on her. “3 was a good plan.” 

“Woof! Wolve! Wolves! Woolf! Wolf! Flash Death!”Something like splitting her in half won’t beat her. Then something like breaking her spine wouldn't hold down Dormarth for long. Inches from Winter’s face the wave of grimm halts each drop stopped in mid air. Flash frozen. Winter sighs focusing on her soul, gripping the polearm with both hands. To use it properly always requires preparation. Though in mere moments the portions of the ooze shifted into a red fur covered massive limb.

“Cyoti! Kaiyo! Coyote!... S-shadow pin!“ The shadow of the beast is pinned to the ground by a steel pole, the arm freezes as if paralyzed. Winter needed to think about something personal to bring out the full potential of the Death Scythe. She thinks of her family, her parents, siblings, Clein, that house the things that distract her the most. “Ah! The rest of it is changing too!? That’s not fair!”

“Stop it already If you haven't figured it out by now. You’re staying put. Foxes. Foxy. Vixen. Fuox. Fox...puppet-play.” The beast is frozen it's limbs refusing to obey as the fox witch’s fingers move like playing with a puppet. The venison the back of her hand pop as she struggles to keep the grimm in check. “Sir Knight, any time now would be great.” Winter eyes snap open eyes glowing blue. The shape of her soul surrounding her body. The end of the pole arm grows a curved branch revealing its true form.

**A proper pitch-black Scythe. Winter moves the frozen ground breaking under the power of her leap. She twists her whole body moving like a buzzsaw cutting through the snow and air a whirlwind of black and white.**

**“DEMON. HUNTER.” The pitch black blades glows bright leaving a trail of blue and white as it severs the air.**

_**The ground splits apart, one splits in two, finally millions of ashes fading away like any other grimm. A splash of blue souls flood into existence despite that she knows one thing, it's not done. While Grimm have no souls to sense, only beastly malice, she’s so focused now everything is clear, her mind is sound. Like undisturbed snow she can feel even the slightest disturbance. She can feel it, like a nail against her skin, the subtle shuffling of earth. Deep underground something moves rock, melts it down, displaces it for it to move through. It’s moving away, running, and above her witches circle around her. She can see it on their faces, fear, respect and anger bubbling under the surface. It’s a shame she may never be free of. She breathes a mist of white. The black scythe dances in her hands, it revolves around her arms with simple jerks of her limbs. Dancing to the tune of her soul. She taps her steel toe of her boot into the snow. Underground between layers of dead earth and frozen rock a well placed glyph forms in the midst of a stream of evil. Hands free she raises them the earth follows her conduction perfectly raising spilling the Lunar Grimm to the surface. “Demon Hunter.” The whisper is cut apart to quiet for the whistle of the scythe. The revolving blade flows, blades brighter than the snow like the wind it glides along the ground and air. Her glyphs acting as gates guide the flow turning a simple slice into a current of blades. Elegantly and quickly the Grimm is torn to shreds...** _ The solo performance dies down and Winter watches the Lunar Grimm fade out of existence over half of its mass gone. It’s always difficult wielding another Weapon. Even with the Meister training it wasn’t in her nature to wield another Weapon, but none of the proper Meister could handle the Death scythe nor her for that matter. Wielding **Spirit** always made her think back on things she didn’t need to. Breathing heavily she uses the polearm as a crutch as the aftershocks of using it calms down. Instead of her own boots and the snow, elegant robes fill her vision. A shiver runs down her spine, despite herself her eyes slowly trail up the elegant clothing to see stars smiling down at her.

“[[[[[! [[[[? [[[[. [[[[[.” Death speaks to her with worry and reaches a bony hand down to her.

The visage death merges with the growing snow storm.

“Winter!” A chorus calls out.

The ground shifts and blood paints the snow red.

W

A day and some change later at Atlas another battle takes place a mix of song and violence.

Weiss Schnee has lights blaring down on her, her stage is wide and snow white reflecting the light back up. Sparkles of glittering white fly about creating a snowing effect. Save her stage, the auditorium so dark she can’t see anyone, not her fans, reporters, or her own family. But somewhere out there they gather together under the same roof for the first time in years. Maybe her mom won't be drinking right now, but two miracles on the same day was unlikely. Restring a hand on her chest, she hears the piano begin, she closes her eyes and sings.

**VV**

“By the great witch! Wake! UP!”

“....What?” Winter blinks, her face hurts, Caiyoot’s weak fist repeatedly punches her in the cheeks. 

“Wake up! We can’t use our magic, so you gotta unlock these things or we're gonna freaking die!” The youngest of the witches’ entire body shaking and shivering as she strikes. She glances past the blubbering girl, a little ways away Dormarth is regenerating her arms, K. 's broom, K. walks a slow circle around the Grimm, the spike in her chest is red, their magic is gone. Despite that, the elder Witch refuses to let Grimm think she’s weak, taking advantage of the Lunar’s grimm intelligence to make it wary of her. Winter presses a hand to Caiyoot’s spike and frowns as the metal lets out a low whine. She’d been out for at least 15 minutes but not long enough to turn it off. 

“ I can’t. Thirty minutes on, hour for the wait.” Winter deeply inhales and exhales. She needs to focus and can't think about this right now. She could wait but the situation wasn't quite nice enough for such wishful thinking. Who knows how long a bluff like K’s would work on this thing. No, in the first place a waiting game with a Lunar grimm is a mistake.

“But- tha-That thing it!It!” The youngest witch; panicking isn’t something new, Winter places a hand on her trembling shoulder.

“Calm down take a breath,” the witch complies though her breathing is still rather shaky, “ and yes I can tell just how bad things have gotten. Panic won’t get us anywhere. Be calm and don’t let fear in.” Winter glances around for any sign of that thing but finds nothing but the desolate land much to her relief. The tracks they saw showed only two; was this one underground the whole time deeper than the others? But why for what purpose? Did it use its own kind as bait but then why wait so long to attack? The answer is worrying and obvious: they were its prey from the start both WCKD and its fellow Grimm. “Doing what Lunars do best, eating everything.” It ate them. The third Wendigo devoured the bits of his comrades. The Grimm’s shape and size bloating and shrinking as it’s unable to remain consistent but managing to stay single general humanoid shape.

A silver plate is clamped dug into its neck; it's not a part of it and it looks disturbingly familiar. A trail of tiny red and yellow crystals sprout from its back like odd growths that she’d recognize anywhere, refined Dust. A red swirl pattern appears over its black fur. Its shrieks, the cry rises and falls almost like a wet wheeze of a laugh, the sound stripping the snow off the ground a flurry to be sprayed around. Bones snap its body arches as its back splits apart spilling its ichor and painting the land red and black. Long gangly arms sprout from its back easily twist as long as its own body. It’s antlers curl and wrap around one another forming two large arches pointing down and away from it. With each step its body vibrates like jelly, yet it's clearly more solid than the other two. 

**Spirit** lays across the battlefield stuck into the ground, like a gravemarker. Grimm takes a slinks towards K. who in turn stops forward with a fierce glare, refusing to give an inch. The Winter pushes herself to her feet, she draws her saber with one hand as the left gains a bladed edge, the grimm’s head swivels in her direction heedless of its own neck. “Get them away, Caiyoot.” She couldn't depend on Dormarth growing her limbs back quickly without her magic, and K. wasn't nigh unkillable like Dormarth. Caiyoot was no longer “Little Witch” but she was green and wouldn’t last a second without her magic. “Time to make good on my word.” The former heiress whispers to the wind. There was no time to be afraid or to wonder about the **_DI3._ ** Just her mission, what she has to do, her life, and her team. **** She stops on the ground, a glyph springs to life under feet. 

It’s time to dance.

  
  


Dancing is something she’s good at and when it comes to singing she’s even better, but it's not all she's worth. She's not a bird in a cage and refuses to be one any longer. It's dark, she can see past the stage her father has set up to test her. It’s radiant, empty and lonely. How the man manages to do this to everything he touches must be semblance all on its own, not that her mother was much better. She would do this, she’d pass this test and live her life on her own terms like Winter, she only wished her sister could see this moment. At the end of the second verse it appears being raised from beneath the stage it’s body chained a dreadful red glow from behind the giant helm and the joints in the armor. A Geist Grimm, Arma Gigas, her instructor quite strongly _implied_ she would be unable to defeat without a partner. The black chains ignite a harsh white light that blends with her concert, they break apart fluttering in the air light snowflakes. She holds her hand flat like a fan, her forearm to her finger tips glow bright and form a rapier. Giant iron digits wrap around an equally massive iron sword and the Geist gets to its feet. The crowd quiets to a hush allowing no noise save for the scrap of metal, a piano and Wiess’s voice. Rising to its full height it casts a massive shadow the halo of light framing its head makes the features of the armor difficult to see as if she’s facing a wall of shadows Weiss plants her foot forward only taking a few quick nervous glances to make sure it's her correct foot. Then it moves and the crowd explodes.

The Ghastly Grimm’s sword cuts through the gasps of the crowd grinding against the ground sparks flying at it carves the stage. Weiss jumps launched into the air with a twirl and her glyphs launch her towards the helmet. Her right hand to her elbow shines reshapes into a thin point, she slashes against the metal scraping a line across its side the grimm stumbles and adjusts knocking its shoulder into Weiss pushing her back as a blue outline shimmers around her body. Her feet slid against the ground and a glyph emerged and with a wave of her left hand spun like the hands of a clock. She glides against the ground and leaps like a figure skater, another glyph launched her in the air and her sword arm lashed out against steel once again. Another glyph takes her away; she glides past it’s limb and repeats. Sparks of light spray form the geist's armor with each slash, knocking it back and slowly carving deeper gashes as she dances around it. The crowd’s cries sync up with the clang of metal rand with every slice of her rapier. It's attempts to catch her were met with a white blur leaving slashes to it’s fake body. The Arma Gigas throws it’s weight around swinging the blade like it was like trying to swat a fly out the air as Weiss effortless flips over the blade while carving a hole in its hand chuck dropping to the ground sounding like a gong. The Grimm’s attack wasn't over it leaps forward knocking it’s chest colliding against Weiss and knocking her back, it’s sword swinging down at her. Hitting the ground so hard she bounces up a white aura flares around her as the shadow of the blade looms over her a white glyph lights up beneath her and throws her back. With a deafening crash the sword smashes into the stage again. The ground shattering against the stage glittering debris rises into the air. The Arma Gigas stomps forward, Weiss’s eyes widen as its armored foot crashes into her body. And the crowd screams. She skids and skips against the ground on her face, her brow cheek, narrowly avoiding her eye, and splitting her cheek. Red runs down her face, it stains her dress, her white hair. Weiss wipes her eye with her stained sleeve and glares ahead at the approaching suit of metal. The noise of the crowd is like static and bleeds away to silence the heavy foot falls of the armor hitting with each tap of the piano’s keys. It's daunting. A quiet treacherous whisper tells her to run.

If she dies it's all over for her so it would be smart to just give in and maybe make a place for herself in the Atlas Huntsman academy. But then she couldn't be her or even find out what that means, not really. She wanted to be more than a Schnee like Winter. She needed to be braver and free like Blair. She can’t both make her name her own and be afraid to try.

‘That's enough! I put myself here, I’m going to do this!...I’m...not some doll!’ If Weiss was going to give into fear she would have never done this in the first place. Her eyes drift down to her stage, the one she made for herself. Even as blood splashes against the ground staining this lonely world red, her eyes filled with determination, the defiance in her soul rallies within her. A warm feeling washes over her. She gasps shoulder’s shakes with every breath as she stands on surprisingly steady feet. She pulls different colored marbles from her pocket and slips them past her lips. She feels the dust settle in her stomach. She opens her mouth and sings. She continues to dance and to sing for her freedom.

“Mirror, mirror, what's behind you?

Save me from the things I've seen!"

  
  


But how long can she last like this, against this monster laughing at her. The Grimm chips away at her aura with each blow and when it's gone the chill of the wasteland will be another enemy. It’s body is thick, each swipe is like trying to cut through tar, she needs to use her glyphs to give her the strength to cut through. Every slash of her blades spills more of it across the battlefield but it doesn't care, each piece is a weapon only the tiniest shards fade away. The members of WCKD watch on, she can feel their gaze on her back. Are they silently cheering her on, if only so they don’t die, or hoping for her demise? Regardless, she couldn't blame them either way. She doesn't have the time, she only needs to win. She exhales. It laughs and lunges Winter ducks underneath its jaws dragging her blade across its stomach as it flies overhead. Its ichor sizzles against her aura, burning itself away and wearing her down a bit further. It’s getting bold. Has it noticed she doesn't have enough aura left to use her glyphs as much as she would like? She leaps back as the pieces on the floor extend trying pierce through her legs and scrape her aura. Winter inhales and the Wendigo it on her again charged on all fours its free lanky arms wipe at her, parrying is out of the question it’ll just tackle her to the ground. A glyph appears around her feet and her center of gravity shifts as she's pushed forward to the crawling monster, she reaches into her pocket pulling out a blight blue marble and pops it into her mouth. She swallows and exhales, it laughs and charges a blaze of flame spilling from its mouth and her body glows bright blue. A streak of light pierces through the Grimm carving it cleanly in half its gurgled distorted cry echoes. The saber flies just past the beast, its false blood burning off it; in a burst of light the sword that split it in two changes back into Winter. The spark of life surges in her eyes and she wastes no time. She swings her arm and saber at the stunned mistake of nature, electricity crackles as arcs cling and dance on her limbs and saber.

“I can keep it from the world

Why won't you let me hide from me?”

It’s extra arms sizzle and fall with a single swipe. Spears spew from the discarded limb and back. She lops off a leg, sidestepping the geysers of death. Its head laughs on the ground and is crushed underfoot. The number of “deaths” it takes to defeat a Lunar grimm is depressingly lofty. But they can die. Eventually. The dance just goes on. IF she had someone to resonate with... A spike finds her cheek for the distraction scraping against her aura. She grits her teeth. She doesn't breathe, she doesn't think, she doesn't have the freedom to anything but attack and move, chopping it into pieces. 

Again. Again. Again. Again. 

Beneath her feet a glyph lights up and spins another layer atop of it.

She’ll dance until she wins because there is no other option.

She’ll sing until she’s free because the alternative isn’t worth considering.

“Mirror, mirror, tell me something”

Flames trail off her body with her swing, the force of her parry throws the grimm back its font unguarded as its arms raise. She swings down stabbing her blade into the stage, a haze of cold flowing around her as a wave of ice blooms and spikes out from the ground slamming into the steel soldier.

She can feel the bitter chill of the night air, the storm batting against her body but she doesn’t stop. There's so little of it left now, even without aura she just needs to finish this. Her team's shouting is lost in the Lunar’s laughter, even without a head it mocks her. It’s broken body bubbles something churning inside it. She exhales and she takes a step forward. The slick ice makes her over extend, her foot slips on the ice a miracle, her body is pulled back narrowly avoiding a bolt of lightning from the torso. It merely shaves the side of her jacket and burns through her flesh and her left arm. Her spare saber falls from her spasming arm. A scream dies in her throat. Her teeth grind and clatter against each other and she slams her foot back down her sword arm following suit. 

“[[[[[ [[[[[... [[[[[[.”

Her saber glows, a bright white hums with an energy she hasn’t felt in a long time. The snow lifts form the ground as her blade slams into the earth splitting the icy surface bisecting the grimm. it’s body dissolving into the storm as it and the night gives way to a sleepy sun. Winter falls onto her back, her chest rising and falling with each greedy breath of relief. No matter how she fights it, she keeps trying to blink closed, there's no life here no safety, it's foolish. No matter how hard she fights Winter’s eyes close. The light of the sun shines over the snow turning a desolate wasteland into a beacon of light. The Death scythe **Spirit** is uprooted from the layers of snow and ice twirling in the hands of a witch. The black scythe in hand, the witch strolls over Winter’s unconscious form and lays the weapon in her hands. The witch glances at Winter’s charges approaching wearily from over the hills. 

“I'm the loneliest of all”

It’s sword makes a sheath of her stage,it rests next to Weiss and her bloody reflection glances at her. Her hair is messy, her outfit is stained red and her perfect skin will no doubt scar. The audience could see all that but they couldn't see , the smile on her face. The armor stumbles back, its body clang with each step. It’s weapon lost its charges forward. It’s too slow, much too slow to catch, Weiss passes by its legs with a spin knocking them apart leaving deep cracks along their frame. Hopping from glyph to glyph the trail platforms have her at the stop of her stage, a shining star, Weiss’s shadow cast over the test. Like a shooting star a streak of white carves its way through the grimm’s neck and torso letting the pieces of armor clamor to the ground with the piano keys. The crowd is silent as Weiss walks to the center of the stage. Heavy breaths and feet shaking Weiss brushes the edge of her skirt gently gripping the hem and bows to the ground with a practiced curtsy, her blood dripping on the ground. The curtain falls on her messiest and most satisfying performance of her life. Perhaps it’s the blood loss but she could have swore she felt her sister’s critical gaze.

Demon Weapon: Weiss Schnee Rapier

Highest recorded resonance during her training: 10%

Demon Weapon: Winter Schnee Saber

Highest recorded Soul resonance in her career :300%

Team WCKD Synergy: 90%

Blair's status:???%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are too many things here...  
> I don't know how to deal with this...  
> But...  
> I'll keep the rest from slipping...  
> \-----------  
> Rollcall TEAM WCKD or the Cerberus of ATLAS.(witches do not follow remnant naming)  
> W- Winter Schnee is not a witch though the Schnee family has been mistaken for witches in the past. Technically the youngest of the group. Demon Weapon: Saber. Her family tends to create dueling weapons as her sister is a rapier.  
> C- Caiyoot (pronounce Chaii-you-te) the youngest witch in the team. Formerly a little witch until a couple of months ago. The most nervous and tricky. Magic- shadows.  
> K - K. (Foxy witch) the oldest and most knowledgeable about the old ways. Age:??? Mind and body magic. Manipulation of that lives. She only goes by K. because “Giving out my name to you things would be disgraceful.” Her opinion on the human race is odd.  
> D Dormarth the second oldest and most disciplined of the witches. She really only knows how to serve those better than herself. Thinks herself a tool,.The most violent as the sway of magic is difficult for her to overcome. Ice magic. Her claims to not totally be a witch have gone ignored by Atlas.

**Author's Note:**

> ..................................................Fool. Your eyes glazed over at the brilliance of my instructions alone? Impressive and as expected. You will do well in my presence, fooly fool. Now I'll start my tale from the beginning , this should be a special treat for one who began as but a foolish fool and rose to a fooly fool. I've only met one of those in recent memory. She was like a daisy.  
> ...?  
> What? Fooly fool! That's a spoiler you know? I must tell my tale from glorious beginning to the continuous continuation! Now where was I, ah yes, my story begins long before your time...


End file.
